Mr. Miracle (11 page)

“It won’t,” Harry managed to assure him.

“Good.” He dismissed Harry with a wave of his hand. That smile that was no smile was back in place. “And you’ll be at the choral performance this evening.”

“I’ll be there,” Harry murmured, more than eager to leave the president’s office before he said or did something to get himself dismissed entirely.

He was halfway to the door when Dr. Conceito stopped him. “I have my eye on you, Mills. You’re a troublemaker, and if this sort of behavior continues, you won’t last long on this campus.”

Harry clenched his fists. “I understand.”

Dr. Conceito’s assistant sent him a sympathetic look as he left the office. He didn’t have a destination in mind, other than to escape. Passing the Hub, he headed toward his classroom and was stopped by a familiar voice.

“Harry.”

Celeste stood outside the cafeteria area, sipping a hot drink from one of the coffee bar’s cups. She wore a bright
turquoise scarf, which was wrapped multiple times around her neck over a red coat.

Harry paused.

“What did I tell you?” she asked softly, then took a sip. Steam rose from her cup as she met his gaze above the rim.

“Stay away from Dr. Conceito. But I blew it, and now Dr. Conceito claims he’s got his eye on me.”

“He does,” Celeste agreed, “but that’s inevitable.”

“It is?”

“The man has his demons, Harry, and your light clashes with his darkness.”

What she said made sense. “He wants to get rid of me.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered.”

“We?”

Celeste grinned. “You don’t honestly believe God would send you on your first earthly assignment without backup, do you?”

Harry grinned. He should have realized he was being looked after. “I was angry.” The power of the emotion surprised him.

“Eventually you’ll learn to deal with these human feelings. It takes time,” Celeste told him. “Emotions are what makes becoming friends with Michelle Heath so dangerous.”

“How’s that?”

The barista’s gaze showed sympathy. “You can’t become romantically involved with her, Harry. She’s a beautiful woman and she’s taken a liking to you.”

He understood far too well; he’d taken a liking to the French teacher, too. “I fully intend to avoid her.”

“What about the concert?” Celeste asked.

“When the time comes, I’ll find a way to sit elsewhere.” Harry wasn’t worried. It shouldn’t be difficult.

“How are matters with Addie Folsom progressing?” Celeste asked next.

Ah yes, his assignment. “She was in class on Wednesday but seemed distracted.”

“Do you know why?”

“Not completely,” he was forced to admit. “Erich fell, you know, and needed her help.”

“And?”

“Addie willingly came to his aid.” The young woman had made several strides in the right direction, and Harry was proud of her. “I’m still not sure what she is meant to learn from him, but she is evolving, conducting herself more maturely—and with more generosity—and that can’t be bad.”

“What happened after she helped him?”

This was the best part. “They started talking and realized their differences, despite everything, weren’t all that
great. It’s a start. I think Erich is seeing her in an entirely different light.”

“And Addie? Has her opinion of Erich changed, too?”

Harry grinned and nodded. “I believe it has.”

Celeste looked pleased. “This is excellent news. Humans tend to build walls when they should be opening doors.”

Harry regarded his mentor in a fresh light. “That sounded almost poetic.”

“Thank you.” She sipped her drink and then looked him square in the eye. “Now for the big question. Is Addie ready?”

Harry’s thoughts felt as though they were caught up in a tornado, whirling around inside his head.
Ready for what?
He decided to wing it, no pun intended. “I think so.”

“Good, because it won’t be long now before Ashley arrives.”

It was a couple days after her late-night summons for help, and Addie woke with her mind full of Erich. She pushed thoughts of him from her head and reminded herself that she hadn’t finished reading the next fifty pages of
A Christmas Carol
.

Since helping Erich off the floor, their relationship had made a dramatic shift. Whereas before she was constantly on guard and tense around him, since his fall they’d found reasons to work together and even joke with each other. Never in all her life had Addie expected to laugh with Erich Simmons instead of at him or vice versa. This was completely unfamiliar territory. Even now she wasn’t entirely
sure she could or should trust him. He was everything she’d spent the last six years trying not to be. But then, look where that had gotten her. Nowhere, to be precise.

For breakfast, Addie blended fruit and protein powder along with milk and ice cubes into a frothy mixture that would be easy for Erich to drink without the use of his hands. This was the second morning she had mixed up the drink. She hoped the extra protein would give him badly needed strength. He’d seemed to enjoy it the day before, weakened as he was from all his efforts to get up off the floor.

Inhaling a calming breath, she put on her coat and carried the glass over to his house, letting herself in after a polite knock.

“Come in,” he called, just as she came through the door.

As she expected, he’d spent the night in the recliner and was awake.

“Morning,” she said, with a bit of uncertainty, holding on to the glass with both hands. Her heartbeat felt like a pogo stick pounding against her chest.

The evening before, they’d watched
Jeopardy!
together and then a movie. It’d been almost midnight before she’d gone to bed, and here she was again first thing in the morning. Given how incapacitated he was and that it was her job to care for him, that seemed appropriate. But she was unsure he would welcome her company so soon, so she waited a few seconds before moving into the living room.

“Morning,” he said, and avoided eye contact.

That said a great deal. He, too, was at odds over all the time they’d spent together in the last couple days. She was fairly certain he was as uncomfortable about this shift in their relationship as she was.

“I made your breakfast,” she said, stating the obvious, with the glass in her hand.

“I appreciate it.”

She brought it over and set it down on the side table with a straw, and then stepped back awkwardly.

She waited, unsure what to do or say next, if anything.

The silence felt both heavy and bleak.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, hoping to make polite conversation.

He glanced up and nodded. “Better than the night before. How about you?”

“Okay.” Actually, she’d had a difficult time falling asleep, and when she did, her dreams had been filled with nightmares. She’d even dreamed of that time from her childhood when Erich handed her a dead worm and insisted she eat it if she wanted access to the fort he’d built with Jerry and Karl.

Silence again.

“Can I get you anything more?” she asked, eager now to be on her way.

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say. Clearly, they were both uncomfortable with each other now, uncertain and hesitant. Although they’d lived next door to each other nearly all their lives, she realized that basically they were still little more than strangers.

His phone buzzed, indicating he had received a text. He read it and then glanced up at Addie. “Do you remember Carrie Hoffert?”

“Of course.” They’d attended high school together. Carrie had been a homecoming princess and the leader of cheer squad.

“She’s Carrie Welsh now. She heard about the car crash and wants to stop by.”

Earlier, Erich had made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for visitors. “How do you feel about that?”

He shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Carrie and I attended the University of Washington at the same time. Her husband and I work together at Boeing.”

In other words, Carrie probably knew Ashley. That might prove interesting.

After chatting a few minutes more, Addie returned to the house and settled down to finish her reading assignment. To her surprise, the pages of Dickens’s Christmas tale went rather quickly. It wasn’t as if Addie didn’t know
what to expect in the story line; it was probably the most well known and loved of Dickens’s novels. But even knowing the plot, she still found herself caught up in the characters and turning pages as eagerly as she would have if she hadn’t known what would happen next. She looked forward to the classroom discussion and to hearing the reactions of her fellow classmates, especially Danny. He seemed to have a unique view of life in general.

The sound of a car door closing alerted Addie to a visitor. This was about the time the visiting nurse usually arrived, but it could be Carrie, too. Standing, Addie looked out the dining room window, which offered her the best view of the Simmonses’ house.

Only it wasn’t the visiting nurse, and it wasn’t Carrie, either. The tall, thin, fashionably dressed woman in skinny jeans could only be the beautiful Ashley. She walked up the path to the front door as if she owned the street. She paused only long enough to flip her long, blond, perfectly styled hair off one shoulder before she rang the doorbell.

Unable to look away, Addie watched as Ashley let herself into the house. Addie wasn’t sure how long she remained at the window. Her chest started to hurt, and after a moment she realized she’d been holding her breath.

Apparently, Erich and Ashley were enjoying a lengthy conversation, because Ashley stayed inside the house for a
good long while. Addie checked her watch and could have sworn far more than only ten minutes had passed. It felt more like an hour. This was crazy. What did she care if Erich reunited with his ex?

Forcing herself away from the window, she returned to the kitchen and placed dirty dishes in the dishwasher. When she finished, she hurried back to the dining room window. Ashley’s car was still there.

For reasons Addie didn’t want to examine, she was angry, pacing the house, walking aimlessly from room to room. By the sheer force of her will she refused to look out the window again.

Thirty minutes passed, and when she could stand it no longer, Addie looked again. The other woman’s car was gone. While she stood at the window, another vehicle pulled in to the same space so recently vacated.

It wasn’t the nurse then, either, unless Carrie Hoffert Welsh had taken up a medical profession. She didn’t look like any nurse Addie had ever seen, dressed in a red hooded coat. It seemed Erich had an entire parade of women at his beck and call.

Addie watched as Carrie stood on the front porch with a basket draped over her arm. She suspected Little Red Riding Hood had lovingly prepared chicken soup for poor, disabled Erich.

Addie pulled herself up short. Oh crap, she sounded as though she was jealous. Of Ashley and Carrie? Unbelievable! She refused to even consider such a thing.

Determined to push aside her less-than-kind thoughts, Addie returned to her book, although her thoughts wandered away from the page. More than once she had to force herself to refocus.

About fifteen minutes later her doorbell rang. She was surprised to find Carrie on the other side of the door.

“Carrie,” she said, as though it was a complete shock to see the girl from her high school class. Well, actually, it was a surprise to see her at the door. “Come in, please.” She invited her into the house.

“Addie, hello. It’s been way too long; you look great.” Carrie’s smile was warm and sincere.

“You, too,” she managed, and genuinely meant it. She remembered Carrie being a good, caring person, and it wouldn’t surprise her if Erich had maintained their friendship through high school and college.

“Dave told me about Erich’s accident, and so I brought him some Christmas cookies. He told me you’re looking after him, and I thought I’d just pop over to say hi—it’s been a long time. I hear you are helping so your two mothers can go on a cruise. That’s really thoughtful of you, Addie. How’s he holding up?”

Before Addie could answer, Carrie continued, “He put on a brave front, but I could see this is difficult for him.”

It’d be difficult for anyone, but Addie refrained from saying so. “Erich is doing about as well as can be expected,” she said.

“It’s really kind of you to help him and give your mother and his the opportunity to travel.”

“It’s the least I can do.” It wasn’t necessary to explain that it’d taken a gentle shove from a barista and a classic-literature instructor to convince her to take on the task. Needless to say, the only reason she’d agreed was for her mother’s sake. She hadn’t exactly gone into this with a pristine attitude.

“If I’d been thinking, I could have brought Erich chicken soup instead of cookies,” Carrie continued.

“You’re the thoughtful one,” Addie said. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy the cookies.”

“I hope so. It’s good to see you, Addie. Erich tells me you’re in school. That’s great. I better get to work or I’ll be late. Merry Christmas,” she said, and started for the door.