Mr. Miracle (18 page)

“I’m doing okay in this class?” His look was almost childlike, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“I’d say you’re doing better than okay.”

Danny’s wide smile was immediate, showing his teeth. “Some in class say I talk too much. You think that, too, Mr. Mills?”

“Not too much,” Harry said, carefully choosing his words, unwilling to squelch Danny’s enthusiasm. The young man wasn’t the least bit shy about sharing his opinions, that was a given. “But it might be a good idea to give others a chance to share once in a while,” Harry added.

Danny was completely readable, and some of the excitement left his eyes.

“But I wouldn’t want you to stop contributing in class. Your thoughts are impressive and add another layer to our discussion.”

The spark returned in Danny’s eyes, and Harry was relieved.

“Mr. Mills, being in your class makes me want to open up. It’s weird, no teacher’s ever done that before.” Harry could barely hide his surprise and delight at this comment.

“I was thinking I would bring my mama to the potluck we’re having,” Danny continued. “She isn’t much of a cook, though.”

“You bring her, Danny. I’d be happy to meet her, and don’t you worry about contributing anything. There’s going to be lots of food.”

Harry didn’t have time to dally long. Keeping Dr. Conceito waiting wasn’t a good idea. “Looking forward to meeting her,” Harry said, as he reached for his briefcase.

Danny’s grin was huge. “Good talking to you, Mr. Mills.” Danny tucked the Dickens novel into his coat pocket and headed out the door.

“Good talking to you, too,” Harry whispered, as the young man disappeared down the hallway. Danny showed a great deal of promise, and Harry sincerely hoped that God would choose him to guide Danny Wade when the time was right.

Harry draped his coat over his forearm and was ready to leave when he was stopped yet again.

Michelle Heath stood framed in the doorway, holding on to a slip of paper identical to the one Harry had received earlier in the day.

“Oh Harry,” she whispered, her face a mask of concern. “This is all my fault. I am so sorry.”

“Dr. Conceito wanted to see you, too?” This was bad news. Harry was certain he’d been the only one targeted,
no thanks to Brady Whitall. It went without saying that the security guard had taken delight in informing the college president of their infraction against school policy. The janitor might have ratted on her as well.

“I should never have brought the champagne here,” Michelle continued. “Dr. Conceito has a real thing against any form of alcoholic beverage on campus grounds. I assumed that since classes were dismissed, we’d be alone and …”

“We’ll explain what happened,” Harry said, doing his best to disguise his own concern.

“I would have invited you to my house … I should have, but I didn’t think you’d come and so I planned this little surprise, not realizing. Oh dear, I feel dreadful, just dreadful.”

“We aren’t children being called to task,” Harry said, and pushed his eyeglasses further up his nose. Although that was exactly the way he felt—like a child sent to the principal’s office for misbehavior.

“We should go together, don’t you think?” Michelle asked. “And explain.”

“Good idea.”

Michelle wrapped her arm around his elbow and briefly leaned her head against his shoulder. “I feel better already, just talking to you.”

“Me, too.”

She looked up at him with the roundest, most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Her gaze was filled with hope and something else he couldn’t read. Admiration? Infatuation? Harry couldn’t tell, but whatever it was stirred his blood and the desire to protect her.

“You forgive me, don’t you, Harry?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” When he first met Michelle, Harry found himself flummoxed by her attention. After that first meeting he recognized that this woman could easily distract him from his mission. On Celeste’s advice, he’d avoided Michelle as best he could. The problem was, they saw each other nearly every day, passing in the hallway. Lately it’d become his habit to stop and chat with her a few minutes here and there between classes. In the process, he’d become comfortable with her. Way too comfortable.

Celeste had warned him to avoid anything hinting at romance with a human. It would complicate his mission, possibly compromise it. Harry couldn’t allow that to happen, and he wouldn’t. Still, he found he’d grown fond of Michelle. He liked the way she tucked her arm around his and leaned her head against his shoulder. It was those human emotions again, warring with his earthly mission.

When Harry and Michelle arrived, Dr. Conceito was
waiting inside his office. They were ushered in and thoroughly lectured. They remained for thirty or more minutes and explained the circumstances. Thankfully, the meeting didn’t go as badly as Harry feared. They were reprimanded and then sent on their merry way. Harry realized he would need to tread carefully from this point forward or he might find himself without a job. Then Celeste would have no option but to send him back.

Michelle and Harry parted outside the office. She had things she needed to do, and for that matter, so did he.

Now that the meeting was over, Harry felt he should talk to Celeste. He found her at the coffee stand in the Hub. She wasn’t busy when he sidled up to the counter, and while he avoided making eye contact, she focused her attention squarely on him.

Right away, Celeste asked, “How’d the meeting go with Dr. Conceito?”

Harry shrugged. “All right, I guess.”

“The news of the two of you is circulating the campus.”

“What are people saying?”

“What do you think, Harry?” she asked, sounding concerned. “Word has it that you have a thing for the French teacher and that both of you’ve been called out. And you already know who started that rumor.”

Harry didn’t need two guesses. “Brady?”

“Most likely,” Celeste concurred. “I wish you’d talked to me before the meeting with Dr. Conceito.”

Harry felt her disappointment.

“You don’t ever need to be afraid to tell me something,” his mentor continued. “I’m here to help with your adjustment in the same way that you’re helping your students.”

Celeste was right. He should rely on her more.

“So tell me,” Celeste said, as she set an Americano on the counter for Harry, “how do you feel after dealing with Dr. Conceito?”

“Better.”

Celeste pinned him with a look that had the potential to cut him in half. “Because Michelle went with you?” she asked.

He probably shouldn’t admit the truth, but that was unavoidable. “Yes.”

“You seem to be falling for her. Are you?” Celeste was nothing if not direct.

Again, lying wasn’t an option. “Is that bad?”

“Not really. We are blessed with feelings and emotions. It’s all part of being human, even if only for a short time when we’re on Earth. The key is learning to adjust. We have to remember that while we might live as humans, we aren’t actually human.” She paused and studied him for a few moments. “I hope that makes sense.”

More and more it did.

“But for Michelle’s sake and yours, do not become romantically involved,” Celeste warned.

“Duly noted.” Harry was more determined than ever to keep his distance from the French teacher, lest he succumb to her charms.

“Now tell me about the potluck,” Celeste said.

Harry brightened. It’d been a spur-of-the-moment decision. Classes would be dismissed over Christmas and New Year’s but would start up again after the first of the year. The students were just beginning to know one another and become friends. Harry wanted to encourage that. He’d suggested a Christmas potluck and invited the class to bring a favorite dish and a friend to the last session before the break. The response had been enthusiastic.

“Can you come?” he asked.

“If I’m not working.”

“I hope you will.”

“I’d like that,” Celeste said. “It is a good idea. By the way, how is the war veteran in your class working out thus far?”

“Andrew Fairfax?” Harry was concerned about the young man, who had remained silent throughout each session. A number of times Harry had tried to engage him in the discussion. To this point, he’d had little success.

“Andrew is a complicated case,” he said, assessing his
student. Harry was anxious to read Andrew’s file, which would tell him a lot about where the man was mentally.

“I agree,” Celeste said, echoing his thoughts.

“Will I be assigned to help him along with Tommy?” Harry asked. He smiled at the prospect of working alongside an angel who’d taken the form of a dog.

“Not right away. Tommy is his constant companion, but the time is coming when Tommy will leave him. When that happens, it’s going to be a rough road for Andrew. I want to be sure you’re available then.”

“I will be,” Harry promised.

“Now give me an update on Addie,” Celeste said, and hopped onto a stool on the other side of the counter.

This was by far a more comfortable subject for Harry. Celeste very well knew everything Harry did. What she wanted, he suspected, was his perspective on the situation.

Harry couldn’t hold back a grin. “She brought him a Christmas tree, and despite his protests, set it up in his house. Oh, and she tacked up mistletoe. Say, can you explain what it is with mistletoe?” he asked. He’d been meaning to find out but had gotten sidetracked. “Addie and Erich took it from room to room and kissed. I couldn’t figure it out. Seems to be potent stuff. Funny, I’ve never heard of anything like this before now.”

The smile on Celeste’s face was huge. “I’ll explain it later.”

“Erich is being stubborn about Christmas,” Harry said, continuing the update on the two. “Addie is doing her best to ignore it.”

“Addie has come a long way,” Celeste said, and sounded pleased.

Harry wished he could take more credit for the changes in his young charge. The truth was, he’d done very little.

“Her father is proud of the changes he sees in her.”

“You’ve talked to her father?” Harry asked, unable to hide his surprise.

“Well, yes. Why else do you think you’re here? He was the one who asked for angelic intervention, and God granted his request. It’s because of him that you received this assignment.”

Harry had had no idea. “Should I do anything about Erich?” he asked.

Celeste sadly shook her head. “Erich isn’t your concern. He isn’t one of your students. Your ability to influence and guide is available to only those in your class. I’m surprised you need the reminder.”

“I didn’t … I was hoping is all.”

“It is a bit of a disappointment. I understand Addie wants him to come to the Christmas potluck, but he refuses. That’s unfortunate.”

“She’s disappointed, but that isn’t going to stop her
from attending.” Harry was fairly certain she wouldn’t allow Erich or his attitude to keep her away.

“It’s gratifying to see how well you’ve worked with Addie,” Celeste said, complimenting him. She got very serious then. “Now let’s go back to your meeting with Dr. Conceito.”

Harry looked down at the hot coffee and pondered his time with the college president. “As you can imagine, he was upset about Michelle and me indulging in a bottle of champagne on school property.”

“That’s to be expected.”

Harry had gotten good news, though. “He said he was willing to make an exception this one time because classes had been dismissed due to the snow.” Needless to say, Harry and Michelle had been deeply relieved to have gotten a reprieve.

“But one more instance and …”

“One more instance and I am in danger of losing my job,” Harry reluctantly admitted.

Celeste sat back and heaved a heavy sigh. “Dr. Conceito is an interesting man,” she said, almost as if she was speaking to herself. “He keeps a bottle of bourbon in his bottom desk drawer.”

Harry was unable to hide his shock. Dr. Conceito had a drinking problem? “He needs angelic intervention,” he
said, wondering if the day would come when he would personally receive the assignment.

“He does need help,” Celeste agreed, “but right now his heart is too hard for him to be open to the kind of help we can provide. But hopefully that will change.”

Addie was just about to get ready for bed when the lights flickered. She hesitated when it happened again. This time, the lights went out and stayed out. After waiting a couple minutes to see if they came back on, she reached for her phone, turning on the flashlight app, and found her way into the kitchen, where her father always kept the regular flashlight. Thankfully, it was still there.

For most of her growing-up years, Addie had thought of her father as a stuffed shirt, which was probably a term few people used any longer. She’d overheard it once and thought it suited her father perfectly. Now that he was gone she didn’t feel nearly as judgmental. In fact, she was grateful he
was the kind of person who took care to be so prepared and organized. Finding the flashlight was quick and easy, thanks to his pragmatic nature.

She checked at the window and saw that it wasn’t just her house. The entire street was without electricity. Then she wondered about Erich. She’d left him after only a quick visit following class and dinner. He’d been grumpy ever since she’d set up the Christmas tree, which he continued to complain about every visit. As a result, she’d spent less time with him for the last few days. Still, he was her responsibility, and she couldn’t ignore him, especially if the power was off.