Tin Angel (2 page)

“Don’t go. Don’t leave me,” she cried.

* * *

Alice awakened to find dawn’s purple glow beaming in through her window, but her tired eyes burned as if she hadn’t slept a wink. That dream! So vivid, almost as if it were real… Why, she could still feel the warmth of Tom’s hand in hers, the scent of roses and beeswax candles lingering in the air, the effortless sway of their bodies moving in rhythm. She tried to drift back to the dream so that she might summon Tom again, but the moment was gone. She sighed and blinked the sleep from her eyes.

Jasper prowled onto her pillow and let out a series of loud meows. Food was a priority for the cat, if not for herself. She stepped into a pair of warm, fuzzy slippers and reached for her cane. Jasper led the way into the kitchen, where Alice poured a cup of cat food, then put the kettle on for tea. The cold, drafty room made her shiver, and she went into the parlor for a throw.

The Christmas tree sparkled in the morning light. She glanced up at the tin angel on top. Tom had given it to her before he left for war as a token of his love. Every time she looked at it, she felt as if the angel wrapped her in its golden wings, replacing her loneliness with serenity. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “I know it’s served no purpose to have mourned you my entire life, Tom. I should have tried to live…to love again. Not that anyone could have taken your place, but to waste my life…well, I realize now that was wrong.”

The room went black. She blinked quickly, trying to make out anything: a piece of furniture, the Christmas tree, something…but it was as if she’d fallen into a cavern so deep that not even a pinpoint of light could penetrate. Had she gone blind? Perhaps she’d had a stroke. Oh Lord, was she about to die? She reached for her cane, but her hand froze on the brass handle. A piercing blue light illuminated the parlor. Oh no, it was too late. Death had claimed her.

At her feet lay the tin angel. When she reached for it, a gust of wind more powerful than a February Nor’easter blew her into an overstuffed armchair. The angel rocketed into the air and spun like a top, then burst into tiny glittering particles that fell around her in a shower of gold dust. An exquisite figure emerged—pixie-like in appearance, its gossamer wings fluttering like a butterfly’s.

“What’s happening?” Alice whispered, gripping the chair.

A tinkle of laughter more melodious than church bells spilled from the angel’s bow-shaped lips. “Don’t be frightened, Alice. I’ve granted your wish.”

“Wish? I haven’t wished for anything.”

The angel floated nearer. “But you did. You wished for youth and love.”

“A feeble dream.”

“But a wish, nonetheless.”

Alice frowned. “Maybe, but I know better than most, wishes don’t come true.”

The angel lifted an iridescent brow, her gaze leveled at Alice. “Really?”

With the angel’s stare fixed on her, Alice glanced down over her body. Her eyes widened in disbelief. What had happened to her wrinkles and liver spots? She held out her hand. Whose smooth, supple skin was this? Next she flexed her arthritic fingers, then waggled them when no familiar stiffness stopped her. “Oh my, there’s no pain,” she said in disbelief.

Alice rose from the chair and, like a child filled with joy, twirled on her toes, then hurried across the room without the use of her cane and with a spring in her step that she hadn’t had in years. She stopped in front of a large gilt-framed wall mirror. “It can’t be true.” The reflection that greeted her was one she hadn’t seen in decades. Luminous smoky-gray eyes. A radiant rosy complexion accentuated by high cheekbones and a wide sensuous mouth, shiny chestnut hair… She ran her index finger over her bottom lip, down her chin and along her firm jaw.

“I don’t believe it. I’m gorgeous. And young!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. This was how she’d looked in her youth, only the ugly duckling had become a swan. Times had changed and so had the standard of beauty. For the first time in her life, she liked the way she looked. But how could this be? She was ninety years old, far from young and beautiful.

Alice didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to dash into the streets and dance: another part of her wanted to run back to bed, hide under the covers and wake up again. She looked at her agile, young hands and shook her head. She pressed her palms together and took a long look around the room. The same antique rose throw lay across the sofa. And there on the end table stood her favorite photograph of Tom in his uniform, yellowed now with age. Only she had changed.

Alice shook her head slowly, took a deep breath, and looked back at the angel. “Well, okay, maybe every once in a while miracles do happen. But why now? Why this?” She waved a smooth, wrinkle-free hand in front of herself.

“Because you’ve been given a second chance at life.”

“A second chance? I don’t understand.”

“You’re in limbo, Alice.”

The blood drained from her face, and the room seemed to tilt. “You mean I’m dead?” Her voice came out as little more than a squeak.

Golden curls danced around the angel’s face as she laughed. “Let’s not call it that. Let’s just say you’ve had a transformation.”

Alice leaned against the wall to steady herself. “All right, then, this…transformation, how long will it last?”

“Till New Year’s Day. Unless you find true love before then.”

“What! If I haven’t found love in over sixty years, how in the world can I find it in ten days?”

“It will do you no good to be negative. Besides, Tom is rooting for you.”

“Tom sent you?”

The angel nodded. “A soul plagued by guilt can’t rest. He wants you to love again.”

“But what if I don’t find love?”

The angel’s radiant complexion darkened. “Then you’ll forfeit this second chance—”

“And I really will be dead,” Alice said glumly, finishing the tin angel’s sentence. A moment later, blackness enveloped her. “Wait,” she cried. “Don’t leave, there’s so much I need to ask you.” But the darkness swallowed her useless plea. The tin angel had disappeared.

Maybe this was just another dream? She scratched the side of her leg with her fingernail. The ensuing sting confirmed she was indeed awake. She glanced at the top of the Christmas tree. The tin angel was gone. Great. She’d been given a second chance at life, but she had no idea how she was going to find love.

The piercing wail of the teakettle sent Alice sprinting to the kitchen. Steam shot from its spout, and water bubbled from its rattling lid like a science experiment gone awry. She grabbed a potholder, then lifted the copper kettle from the burner, setting it on a hot plate next to the stove.

Jasper sat on the counter, cleaning his face with his paw. If a cat could frown, that was the look he shot her between licks. Large golden eyes glared at her, and a low growl rumbled in his throat when she reached out to stroke his head.

“What’s the matter, Jasp? Don’t you recognize me?”

The cat inched back. “It’s me,” she said with a laugh, “only a new-and-improved model.” She held her hand out for Jasper to sniff until he seemed satisfied she was indeed his owner.

“I’ve got so much I want to do. I don’t know where to begin.” She looked down at the fuzzy pink slippers too large for her feet and the floral nightgown barely skimming her ankles. “First off, I’d better find some clothes that fit.”

She left Jasper to finish his grooming and headed toward the bedroom. Inside, she opened her closet and groaned at the stack of cardigan sweaters and stretch pants. They might be all right for an old lady, but they’d never do for a young woman about to have the time of her life. She took a moment to say a prayer of thanks for this miracle, then rummaged through a row of blouses until she came to a coral silk—the one she liked to wear when Pastor Riley came to call. He said it complemented her eyes. Yanking it off the hanger, she tossed it on the bed, then found the pair of black trousers she always wore with it.

She slipped out of her nightgown and noticed the cotton briefs about to fall down around her knees. She hadn’t realized how much her waist had thickened over the years, leaving her to wonder about the changes that might have occurred to the rest of her body. She already knew her feet were smaller and she’d gained an inch or so in height. She averted her gaze to her breasts. And she knew something else—she no longer sagged.

Shopping was definitely at the top of her to-do list.

* * *

Jack slid the mustard jar next to last week’s leftovers, then reached for the milk. He let the refrigerator door slam shut behind him as he moved over to the kitchen table. From the corner of his eye, he saw the answering machine’s flashing red light. He didn’t need to play the message to know who’d left it. Bethany Snow. A long-legged blonde beauty and the daughter of Dr. Eugene Snow, dean of Chesterfield Hall and Jack’s former employer.

At one time he’d been convinced he loved Bethany, but after three years with her he’d felt more like her puppet than her fiancé. When he’d learned Silvercreek Elementary School needed a music teacher, he’d had no problem leaving Boston for the peaceful lifestyle of a small town. He was through with high-maintenance women. He’d take a simple girl any day—someone like Alice must have been. He imagined what she must have looked like in her youth, a fresh-faced beauty with an understated style. Since he’d moved in, he’d gotten pretty close to her. She needed someone to catch up on odd jobs around the old house, and he was happy to help her out. At first he’d thought of her like a grandma, but she’d become a good friend, entertaining him with stories from simpler days when life—and love—wasn’t so complicated. If he could only find a woman like her, an old-fashioned girl…

He poured the milk into his coffee, then took a sip as he walked over to the answering machine. Sure enough, Bethany’s smooth, silky voice filled the kitchen.

“Jack, love, I have fabulous news, and if I don’t tell you now, I’ll just burst. Randolph agreed to give me a few days off over the holiday. That means I can spend New Year’s with you. Isn’t that fabulous? It’ll be like old times. Call me, love.”

He took a gulp of his coffee, forgetting how hot it was. Bethany never asked for time off from her news position at WWCO Radio. Could her mission be to have him put a ring back on her finger? The thought left a queasy feeling in his stomach, similar to how he felt after eating day-old pepperoni pizza. He’d have to deal with Bethany, though, like it or not. Just not now. He was already running late. His students at school might enjoy his tardiness, but he doubted the neighboring classrooms would look favorably upon the chaos coming from his music room. Besides, he still had to drop off breakfast to Alice.

He set his coffee cup down and grabbed the still-hot cinnamon buns he’d purchased earlier that morning from the little bakery around the corner. Renting Alice’s upstairs apartment made it easy for him to check in on her and provide her with a meal. He let the door slam shut behind him and raced down the back stairs whistling “Deck the Halls.”

Jack hopped up the steps to Alice’s front porch and knocked on the thick wood door, listening for the tapping of her cane on the foyer floor. A few moments later, the door opened a mere six inches. An unexpected beauty with gleaming chestnut hair, full sensuous lips, and mesmerizing gray eyes peered out at him. “I-I’m here to see Alice.” He felt ridiculous for his stutter, but this girl knocked the breath out of him.

“She’s not here.”

“Well, where is she? When will she be back?”

“I don’t know. I’ll tell her you came by.” She snatched the cinnamon buns out of his hands, then slammed the door.

“Wait a minute. I didn’t even tell you my name.” He spoke to the thick mahogany door. What in the world was that all about? Something wasn’t right. Alice never went anywhere. Who was that rude woman, and why was she so eager to get rid of him? And where the heck had his buns gone? She sure snatched those away quick enough. He needed some answers, and he was going to get them. Only he’d have to wait until later, as his watch showed 8:35 a.m. Just barely enough time to slip into school before the bell rang.

* * *