Angels Everywhere

  This was the first day of Hanukkah, the Jewish holiday that observed the freedom of religion. These few days in December celebrated the hope for peace. This night Jewish families around the world lit the first candle of the menorah, commemorating the Jewish recapture of the Temple in Jerusalem from the Hellenic Syrians in 164 b.c. It was the holiday honoring “the miracle of the oil.”

  If Joshua remembered his history correctly, only one small jar of undefiled oil could be found for the Temple’s menorah. It should have been enough for only one day, but the jar lasted eight days, until a fresh supply could be delivered.

  Joshua had never considered himself a particularly religious man. He preferred to think of himself as a man of faith. In the darkness of winter, his people celebrated the return of light.

  That was the way Joshua thought of Hannah. She was a ray of sunshine in a world that had been filled with dark ambition. A ray of hope. He hated placing Hannah in the awkward position of having to choose between him and Carl, but he was confident she didn’t love the other man. He would have staked his career on that.

  This evening would be telling. What he’d said to Hannah earlier about her not being able to stay away was true. If she truly cared for him the way he suspected, she’d find a means of meeting him.

  Rockefeller Center was big, but somehow, some way, they’d connect. Joshua checked his watch one last time: 8:40.

  His disappointment was keen. He’d wanted her to come. Willed her there. But it was apparent now that he’d been wrong. He had no option but to release her; she’d made her choice. He’d found her too late.

  He’d turned away from the ice-skating rink when out of the blue he saw her. In that moment, it was as though the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders and his heart sang.

  Hannah saw him, too, but her beautiful blue eyes were devoid of emotion. She hurried toward him, and he held out his hands to greet her.

  By the time she’d gripped his fingers with her own, she was breathless and barely able to talk. Her eyes were bright with questions. With doubts and confusion. Without speaking, she told him everything he needed to know. She hadn’t wanted to come. Had decided to stay away . . . and found she couldn’t.

  “You were right,” she said with a sadness that was nearly his undoing. “I had to come. A hundred times I told myself the best thing for both of us was if I stayed away. What have you done to me, Joshua? What have you done?”

  It was difficult not to pull her into his arms and comfort her. It was what he wanted. His heart was full, spilling over. The fact that his love brought her unhappiness wasn’t lost on him. In time he’d make up for the unpleasantness he’d caused her. If only she would be patient, he’d prove to her she’d made the right decision.

  “I think we should talk this out,” she suggested. She seemed to harbor the hope that they could sit across from each other and reason away their mutual attraction. It wasn’t as simple as that, but she’d need to reach that realization herself.

  “All right.” He sought nothing more than to be with her. It wouldn’t have mattered what they did. In many ways, he felt he was already fully acquainted with Hannah. He knew he loved her. He knew he wanted her to be his wife and the mother of his children.

  How or when he’d come to realize all this, he couldn’t answer. He was a man who dealt with facts, who argued cases. A man who generally was uncomfortable defining feelings. But when it came to Hannah Morganstern, Joshua found he was an expert on identifying his emotions.

  “Come on,” he said, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. “I’ll buy us a cup of hot chocolate.”

  A fragile, tentative smile touched her mouth. Her beautiful, kissable mouth.

  “I’m beginning to think we’re both a little nuts,” she said.

  “I couldn’t agree with you more, but it’s a good kind of crazy. Being with you makes me happy, Hannah. You’re beautiful and generous and loving.”

  She lowered her head, uneasy with compliments.

  Joshua found a table, and after she was seated, he walked over to the refreshment booth and bought two steaming cups of hot chocolate.

  When he returned, she glanced up at him shyly. “The most amazing thing happened this evening.”

  “Oh?” He sipped from the edge of the paper cup, the steam wafting upward.

  “When I told you I couldn’t meet you, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to. Carl had asked me to attend the candle-lighting ceremony with him. It’s the first day of Hanukkah,” she told him unnecessarily.

  “I know.”

  “I knew there wasn’t any way I could possibly break our date. Then at the last minute Carl phoned. He came down with the flu.”

  That explained why Hannah was late. She’d been at the synagogue with her family and then rushed from there to Rockefeller Center.

  “When I left in such a hurry, I’m sure my parents thought I was going to see Carl . . . instead I’m meeting another man.” Sadness coated her words. It was clear she hated deceiving those she loved.

  “I’m sure that given time, your family will learn to like me as much as they do Carl,” he assured her gently. He regretted bringing the other man into the conversation. It seemed they spent half their precious time together discussing the rabbi’s son.

  Hannah’s gaze drifted to the ice skaters and then back to him. “I hardly know you myself.”

  “Ask me anything you like,” he invited her.

  “You’ve never married?”

  “No. I’ve been waiting for you, Hannah Morganstern.” By the way the color drained from her face, Joshua realized he’d said the wrong thing. He didn’t mean to rush Hannah. Because he was confident didn’t mean he had to get cocky.

  “I’m engaged to Carl,” she whispered. “Doesn’t that matter to you?”

  “It matters a great deal.” He wasn’t going to lie. When she’d told him, he’d been both frustrated and angry. Later he’d realized just how fortunate it was that they’d met before the wedding. “I figure I found you just in time.”

  He didn’t ask her if she felt the same way. Didn’t bombard her with questions. That wasn’t necessary. He already knew. She felt everything he did, only for her, it wasn’t so simple. Tied up with her feelings for him was a lifetime of adhering to her parents’ wishes.

  “I’ll go to your family,” Joshua offered, “and explain.”

  “Explain what?” she asked miserably. “There’s nothing to tell them, Joshua. I haven’t changed my mind about anything.”

  Nine

  Hannah had no intention of staying with Joshua. Her only purpose in meeting him was to explain once and for all that a relationship between them was impossible. It was too late for them. She was engaged to Carl now, and they’d soon be planning their wedding.

  That had been the reason she’d decided to meet Joshua: so he’d know. Yet the moment she’d found him, her heart had been filled with a yearning, a wonder, that she couldn’t reason away.

  She couldn’t look at him, she feared, and not reveal what was in her heart, so she focused her attention on the ice skaters. As a child she’d loved it when her mother had taken her to this very rink. Although she’d struggled to remain upright, Hannah had enjoyed the simple pleasure of gliding freely over the ice. When she’d tired, she’d sat and watched others, admiring the skillful athletes as they’d leapt and spun their way across the rink. In her child’s mind, she’d dreamed about someday being as graceful and talented.

  “Come,” Joshua said, and reached for her hand. He’d been silent since she’d announced that she fully intended to marry Carl. Hannah hoped he would accept her decision graciously and let matters drop between them. It was as difficult for him as it was for her, but she couldn’t tell him that. She willed him to leave because she hadn’t the strength to do it herself.

  “Where are we going?”

  His eyes revealed nothing, then he smiled in that gentle way of his. “Ice skating.”

  “But, Joshua, it’s been yea
rs. I’m not sure I even remember how.”

  “It’s been years for me, too.”

  “I can’t,” she insisted. “Really. I should get back before Mama asks questions. I can’t lie.”

  Joshua stiffened. Surely he understood that she’d intended never to see him again. Surely he realized that she’d come this evening only because Carl had canceled at the last moment. Even now that surprised her.

  “I’m not asking you to lie,” Joshua explained, his hand clasping hers firmly. “All I want is for you to skate with me.”

  Hannah gazed longingly toward the ice. She was tempted. Oh, heaven, she was tempted. It wasn’t so much to ask, she decided, not when she wanted this so badly herself.

  “All right,” she agreed. “But for only a short time.”

  “Agreed.”

  Joshua left her briefly, after checking her shoe size, and returned a few moments later with two pairs of ice skates. After lacing up his own, he knelt in front of her to be sure her skates were tied properly.

  “You may well regret this,” she said, linking her arm through his. Her legs wobbled when they stepped onto the ice, but Joshua’s grip about her waist was firm.

  Her first few steps were tentative and awkward. If not for Joshua, she was sure she would have fallen. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into doing this,” she said, concentrating on staying on her feet.

  “You’re doing just fine.”

  He was being kind, and she said so. Their first whirl around the rink was marked with her clumsy attempts to remain upright. Even with Joshua holding on to her, Hannah’s arms flailed out in front of her a number of times in an effort to maintain her balance.

  Before long she found a certain rhythm and glided over the smooth surface. Gaining confidence, she relaxed her grip on Joshua’s arm, and he gradually released her. Skating backward in front of her, he smiled and praised her skill.

  “Do you think anyone from the Ice Capades is watching?” she joked.

  Joshua chuckled.

  Thinking herself clever, Hannah decided to speed past Joshua. Unfortunately, in her effort to impress him, she lost her footing. Her feet slipped out from under her so quickly that she didn’t have time to react. Arms flailing, she landed butt first on the hard, cold ice.

  Joshua nearly fell on top of her, trying to keep her from losing her balance. By some minor miracle he managed to remain on his feet. Smiling broadly, he skated wide circles around her.

  “You think this is funny, do you?” she asked, her dignity sadly bruised.

  “Hilarious.”

  Hannah’s rear end was getting wet and cold from the ice. She stretched out her arm, silently seeking his assistance. Joshua ignored her hand. Bracing his fists against his hips, his skates perpendicular to each other, he circled her.

  “Joshua,” she pleaded.

  Chuckling, he helped her to her feet.

  They skated for more than an hour, and then afterward, because she was unbelievably hungry, they ate huge hot dogs. Mustard dripped onto Hannah’s forearm, and Joshua dabbed it away with a paper napkin, teasing her about being so messy.

  Time seemed to drift away from them. Never could Hannah remember enjoying anyone’s company more. It had been like this from the first moment they’d met.

  “I have to go,” she said sadly when she noticed the time. It seemed she was always saying that to him.

  He hailed a taxi and sat next to her on the seat. When they arrived outside her parents’ deli, Joshua paid the driver and climbed out of the cab with her.

  On the abandoned sidewalk, Hannah stood with her head bowed, her heart thudding hard and heavy with dread against her chest.

  “I can’t see you again.” The best way was to say it flat out and leave no room for speculation. It was difficult, but necessary.

  “Hannah . . .”

  “I’m engaged to another man,” she said as firmly as she could manage, afraid her voice would catch with emotion. “I can’t string you along. It isn’t fair to you. Please, Joshua, try to understand.”

  “Can’t do this to me?” he repeated, and it seemed to her that he found encouragement in her words.

  She didn’t want to argue with him. She glanced longingly toward the door, wanting this last farewell to be over as quickly as possible. Not wanting to dwell on the unpleasantness of hurting him.

  “Good-bye, Joshua.”

  He caught her by the shoulders and brought her into his arms. She didn’t resist him. Hadn’t the strength. His kiss was more potent than Irish whiskey. More heady than fine wine.

  “Don’t you think you should be more worried about hurting Carl than me?” he asked, his lips against her hair. “You said you couldn’t do this to me.”

  “I can’t do this to Carl, either,” she said in a rush, her words dwindling to a mere whisper. She squeezed her eyes closed, realizing her mistake. Her first thought had been of Joshua, not Carl.

  “You don’t love him,” Joshua insisted.

  Hannah backed away from him. “Please accept this, Joshua. I can’t . . . I won’t see you again.”

  He opened his mouth, then snapped it closed as if biting off an argument. “It isn’t in me to make you miserable, Hannah. Nor can I force you into a relationship against your will. I’m here night or day, whenever you need me.” He pulled a business card from his wallet, then wrote something on the back of it. “Here’s my address and phone number. You can reach me twenty-four hours a day. Call me when you’re ready.”

  “I won’t call.”

  “Take the card anyway.”

  He opened her hand and planted it in her palm, then folded her fingers over it.

  Having done that, he kissed her again until her knees felt as though they would give out on her. She could barely manage to breathe when he lifted his head from hers. He reached up and tenderly slid his index finger down the side of her face.

  “Call me,” he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

  Pride demanded that she tell him she wouldn’t be making that phone call, but his kiss had stolen her breath away. By the time her lungs had recovered, he’d turned and walked away.

  Realizing she was still clutching the business card, she buried it in her coat pocket and as silently as possible unlocked the door to the deli.

  Soundlessly she made her way up the backstairs to the family apartment. All the lights were out, and Hannah sighed with relief. Her parents had gone to bed.

  Guided by what little moonlight was available, she crept toward her bedroom. Just when she thought she was home free, her father spoke from behind her.

  “Hannah?”

  She swallowed tightly.

  “For the love of heaven, where have you been? Don’t you have a clue what time it is? Your mother and I have been half sick worrying about you.”

  All through the afternoon, Brynn noticed that Suzie Chang’s eyes avoided hers. Although the teenager didn’t contribute freely to class discussions, if Brynn called upon her, Suzie would willingly share her thoughts.

  Often Brynn had been grateful for Suzie’s contributions. Her other students tended to get sidetracked easily. Brynn had come to rely on Suzie to subtly steer the topic back on course. Reading the teenager generally wasn’t difficult, and Brynn knew from the way Suzie’s eyes brightened when she had something she wanted to say.

  It wasn’t that way this afternoon, however. Suzie seemed to be trapped in a world all her own. Knowing the girl was miserable nearly broke Brynn’s heart.

  Brynn blamed herself. It had been wrong for her to look into scholarship possibilities without first discussing the idea with Suzie. Her intentions had been good, but in the process she’d somehow managed to hurt the girl.

  The bell rang, and Brynn stopped Suzie on her way out the door.

  “Could I speak to you for a few moments?” Brynn asked, hoping her voice didn’t betray her worries.

  “I can’t this afternoon, Miss Cassidy,” the teenager mumbled, her head bowed.

  “
It’ll only take a moment, Suzie.”

  The room emptied, and Suzie stood just inside the classroom, her gaze fastened to the floor. She trembled like a frightened rabbit.

  “It’s about our discussion from the other day,” Brynn began. “Remember I asked you if you had any plans for higher education.”

  “I can’t go to college, Miss Cassidy.”

  “Suzie, if I said something to offend you, then I’m truly sorry.”

  The teenager bit into her lower lip, then slowly lifted her head. She offered Brynn a weak smile. “You didn’t offend me. I was honored that you felt I . . .” She paused, and her dark eyes filled with tears.

  “Suzie?”

  The girl turned away and would have rushed from the room, Brynn suspected, if she hadn’t stopped her.

  “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Brynn asked gently.

  Suzie trembled as she ran the back of her hand under each eye. “I don’t want to trouble you with my problems.”

  “It’s no trouble,” Brynn assured her gently. “I’ll do anything I can to help you.”

  “You can’t help me, Miss Cassidy. No one can.”

  “I can try.” With her arm around Suzie’s shoulder, Brynn steered the girl to her desk and handed her a tissue.

  Suzie’s thin shoulders shook with repressed sobs. “Oh, Miss Cassidy, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “The first thing is to dry your eyes. There isn’t anything so terrible that you can’t tell me.”

  Suzie looked up and studied Brynn as though to gauge her sincerity. Brynn met her look without flinching. She hadn’t a clue why Suzie was so unhappy. Naturally she had her suspicions, but she hoped it wasn’t as traumatic as the girl seemed to feel.

  “I can’t go to college,” Suzie announced on a wobbly, emotion-laden breath. “I don’t even know if I’ll be able to graduate from high school.”