Angels at the Table

  “Hello, Officer. You need to talk to the passenger.”

  Lucie groaned inwardly and smiled weakly up at the patrolman. “Merry Christmas, Officer.”

  He stood tall and lean, and glared directly at her. “Would you like to explain yourself?”

  “Ah …”

  It appeared Lucie was at a loss for words.

  The patrolman frowned and his face darkened. “Littering in the state of New York carries a hefty fine. Tossing a newspaper out a window is a safety hazard. That newspaper might have blinded a driver.”

  “Officer … I could make up a story, but what I’m telling you is the absolute truth. I wanted to read that newspaper but it felt like it was glued to the seat. Then the window rolled down without my doing anything. It was up and then all of a sudden it went down and I wasn’t even close to that side of the cab. I thought the driver must have inadvertently pushed the button but when I looked over I saw it wasn’t an automated window. Then he started yelling at me to roll it up but it wouldn’t budge, and while I was trying to do that, the newspaper started making crazy circles in the vehicle and before I could grab it, it flew out the window.”

  “That’s your story?”

  “Yes,” she said, “and every word of it is the truth, I swear.”

  “And you expect me to believe the window rolled down all on its own?”

  “I swear I didn’t touch it. It came down all by itself.”

  He glared back at her and shook his head as though her story was completely unbelievable.

  “Do you honestly think I’d purposely litter right in front of you?” Lucie asked.

  “Lady,” the cabdriver called back to her, “it’s better not to argue; just take the ticket and let’s get out of here.”

  The police officer’s frown darkened even more.

  “Actually I was looking forward to reading that newspaper,” Lucie continued. “A friend of mine has an article in it.”

  The officer looked at the driver and then back at Lucie. “Well, you’re in luck because I saved it.” He left and returned to his motorcycle.

  “He’s got that and a ticket just for you,” the cabbie told her. “And it’s your fine, lady. I warned you.”

  “So you keep reminding me,” Lucie muttered.

  The officer returned and handed her the newspaper.

  “Can I plead for mercy?” Lucie asked, folding her hands and gazing up at him. “It was a freak accident. I’m sure nothing like this will ever happen again.”

  He hesitated and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll let you off this time. Just make sure you don’t have any other freak accidents.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I’d have an easier time believing you if you rolled up that window,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I tried earlier but it was stuck.”

  “Try again.”

  Naturally it rolled up without the least bit of effort. Lucie groaned with frustration. “I realize this makes everything I told you sound like a lie, but it was the truth. Every word.”

  “Can we go now?” the cabbie asked.

  “Go and sin no more,” the officer said, looking directly past Lucie.

  The taxi driver didn’t need any encouragement. He eased back into traffic and took off at an accelerated pace, tossing Lucie back against the cushioned seat.

  ——

  Mercy expelled her breath and grabbed both Shirley and Goodness by the arm. “Do … you know who … that was?” she stuttered.

  “Yes,” Will answered for them. “It was an officer of the law.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Mercy said, shaking so badly several feathers threatened to fall from her wings. “That was Gabriel. He looked straight at me.”

  “Gabriel?” Goodness slapped her hand over her mouth. “How do you know?”

  “Go and sin no more? What New York patrolman would say something like that?”

  “He knows it was us causing Lucie those problems.”

  “The newspaper, the newspaper,” Will cried. “Lucie’s reading the newspaper.”

  Sure enough, Lucie had it open to the front page and was scanning the contents, seeking out Aren’s name.

  “Oh, no,” Will muttered. “After everything we went through …”

  Mercy quieted him with a single glance. “Not to worry. It’s Friday’s edition.”

  “Friday? You mean we went through all that for a day-old newspaper?” Shirley collapsed onto the seat next to Lucie. “I’m too old for this kind of excitement.” She pressed her hand over her heart.

  “It wasn’t Friday’s edition that got tossed out the window,” Will said quickly. “I saw the date before I sat down and it was definitely the Saturday edition.”

  “Then that really was Gabriel,” Shirley whispered. “I had no idea he intervened with matters on Earth.”

  “Me either … I’ve never known him to do anything like that before.” Mercy remained shaken. “You know what this means, don’t you?” she asked her fellow Prayer Ambassadors.

  “Huh?”

  “Tell us.”

  “It means Gabriel doesn’t want Lucie reading that paper before Aren talks to her either. He’s giving us his tacit permission to do whatever is necessary to see that doesn’t happen.”

  “Gabriel?” Goodness repeated as though shocked. “Do you honestly believe that?”

  “It makes sense, otherwise he would have pulled us from Earth so fast our heads would be spinning.”

  “He might clip our wings yet,” Goodness pointed out.

  “Oh dear, oh dear,” Shirley cried. “Listen, the three of you go on without me.” She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. “I don’t know that I can take this pressure any longer. I think I might have bent my wing flapping around the inside of this cab.”

  “Relax,” Mercy said, taking her friend’s hand and patting it gently. “Take in deep breaths and you’ll be fine in a couple of minutes.”

  “Can I do anything?” Will asked, looking concerned.

  “No, no, everything should be okay in a couple hundred light-years,” Shirley reassured him.

  “Deep breaths,” Goodness repeated. “Take in deep breaths.”

  “Oh, I do feel better.”

  The cab pulled to a stop outside Heavenly Delights and Lucie paid the fare and climbed out. She paused on the sidewalk and glanced down the street. Mercy’s gaze followed Lucie’s and she gasped, drawing in a deep breath.

  “What is it?” Goodness demanded.

  “There’s a newsstand down the street,” Mercy said and shot out of the cab.

  Goodness and Will followed.

  “Don’t leave me,” Shirley pleaded and reluctantly followed.

  Lucie walked down to the stand, saw the newspaper, and opened her purse, digging inside her wallet for the correct change.

  “Now what?” Will asked, glancing from one to the other.

  “This is a piece of cake,” Mercy insisted. She sat on top of the pile and crossed her legs, while the proprietor dealt with another customer.

  Lucie set the proper change on the counter and tried to pick up the paper. Sure enough it wouldn’t budge. She jerked again, harder this time. Nothing. The man at the stand was dealing with two youths who had apparently been causing problems and completely ignored her.

  Mercy crossed her arms and looked pleased with herself.

  Then Lucie kicked the papers and off Mercy flew, butt first onto the sidewalk. Thankfully Will quickly replaced her.

  Lucie gasped and fell back two steps as if she wasn’t sure what had just happened. She took her purse strap and wrapped it over her shoulder and tried again.

  Will held fast.

  Another cab pulled up to the restaurant and after a couple of moments, Wendy climbed out. She stood outside the entrance to the restaurant and watched as her daughter tried once again with no success.

  “Lucie?”

  Lucie turned to see her mother standing outside of Heavenly Delights.
br />   “I thought you’d be here ages before me,” her mother said, joining her.

  “Mom, I want to read Aren’s article, but I’ve had nothing but problems. You would hardly believe what’s been happening.”

  “How frustrating.” Wendy glanced up at the proprietor.

  “If I didn’t know better I’d think I’m losing my mind. I had the most outrageous thing happen in the cab, too.”

  “Come, you can tell me all about it later, but right now we need to get into the restaurant.”

  Lucie hesitated, kicked the stack one last time, and then joined her mother.

  “I’m sure we’ll find a used newspaper inside,” Wendy was saying. “You know how people are always leaving those sorts of things behind.”

  Lucie agreed. “I know it sounds nuts, but it’s like everything is working against me.”

  As soon as they turned away, Shirley released a heaving sigh. “That was close.”

  Mercy barely heard her friend and pointed at their young apprentice. “Will, get into the restaurant and make sure there are no Saturday newspapers to be found.”

  “Got it.” He shot off like a rocket.

  “I’ll help,” Goodness insisted and zoomed after him.

  “Shirley?” Mercy asked. Her friend looked pale. “Do you want to return to heaven?” she asked.

  The former Guardian Angel’s eyes widened. “And miss all this craziness? I don’t think so.”

  Mercy smiled.

  “Besides, I don’t want to face Gabriel all alone.”

  For that Mercy didn’t blame her. The two quickly joined Goodness and Will. Mercy was surprised by how busy the restaurant was this early in the evening. Lucie and her mother should be pleased.

  And she was right, because Mercy overheard Wendy say to Lucie a few minutes later, “Every table is booked and we have several people on a wait list.”

  Lucie glanced up from her workstation. Catherine, who’d attended culinary school with Lucie and Jazmine and filled in for Lucie on occasion and on her day off, smiled, too.

  “That negative review might have done you more good than harm,” Catherine said.

  Lucie frowned. “I doubt that.”

  “Every table, Lucie. That’s high praise all on its own.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is, and while the review might not have hurt us—thanks to all our loyal customers—I still don’t think I could ever forgive Eaton Well for that original review.”

  “Lucie, that’s not like you,” Wendy said, and seemed surprised.

  “Mom, think about it. The sarcasm just wasn’t necessary. I would never want to associate with anyone who could write something that cutting and cruel. He seemed to find pleasure in tearing down the chef, which just so happened to be me.”

  “You know these critics. They work at being clever.”

  “At other people’s expense. Well, I, for one, don’t think it’s amusing. These are people’s lives … their everything.”

  “Oh, Lucie, you need to be more forgiving,” her mother chastised.

  “Nope, not in this instance. It’s not going to happen.”

  Mercy froze and looked to her friends. “Did you hear that?”

  All three nodded in unison.

  “We have our work cut out for us,” Goodness whispered.

  “Oh, yes, we do,” Will agreed.

  Aren’s cell chirped as he sat, crashed out, in front of the television. Glancing at Caller ID, he saw that it was his sister, Josie.

  “You up for a movie?” she asked.

  “Thanks but no thanks. I’m exhausted.”

  “Just from cleaning your apartment?” she teased.

  “No, Lucie phoned and asked if I’d give her a hand.”

  “Doing what?”

  “If I told you, I doubt you’d believe me.”

  “Try me,” Josie said, and sounded amused.

  “We served two hundred fifty meals at the Salvation Army homeless shelter.”

  “You?” She did nothing to disguise her surprise.

  “Yes, me, and don’t sound so shocked.”

  “You’ve never done anything like that before.”

  His sister was right, Aren hadn’t. He’d thought about it, but wasn’t sure how to go about volunteering. All he’d ever done was stick a few dollars in the red bucket at Christmastime. That was as far as his generosity stretched. He made routine donations to a number of worthy causes, but he’d never gotten personally involved. His need to give back had been satisfied by that comfortable barrier of a check stuffed in an envelope and tossed into the mailbox.

  “Apparently Lucie and her family volunteer at the shelter every year.”

  “Really?” Even Josie sounded impressed. “How’d it go?”

  Aren propped his feet on the ottoman. Leaning back, he closed his eyes as a rush of good feelings washed over him. “The truth is, if Lucie had told me why she needed my help I would probably have found an excuse to beg off. I feel bad and all about people living on the streets, but that’s about as far as my thought process goes.”

  “Yeah, me too. It’s sort of overwhelming, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, with such a huge problem what can one person do?”

  “Right,” she agreed.

  “Well, I found out. I can do a lot. I can dish up two hundred fifty servings of beef gravy and green beans. I can smile and wish everyone in line a Merry Christmas. And when I finish serving I can go around and ask if they need anything more to drink.”

  “You did all that?”

  “I did, plus I helped load up the dishwasher and get everything set up for the next meal, and while I’m tired, I’m feeling good, too.”

  “Wow, and you say Lucie does this every year?”

  “It’s tradition for her family. Apparently they volunteer several days in December. Lucie and her mother did the cooking, and if that wasn’t enough, Lucie had to hurry in order to get to the restaurant.”

  “She’s working an entire shift after spending all afternoon at the shelter?”

  “So it seems.”

  His sister hesitated. “She’s special, isn’t she?”

  Aren didn’t need to think twice. After his failed marriage, he’d been gun-shy when it came to relationships. It was bad enough that Katie had taken up with an old lover, but what really hurt beyond the deception was how he’d found out. Aren had walked in on Katie in bed with her lover … in the house and bed Aren shared with his wife. The scene that followed was one that would stick in his mind for the rest of his life. He’d filed for divorce and Katie actually seemed grateful to end the marriage.

  The worst of it was the psychological ramifications. He felt like someone who’d taken a bad spill down a flight of stairs and forever after clung to the railing, no matter how few steps there were.

  “I know you like Lucie,” Josie continued.

  He couldn’t deny it. “I’ve finally met the woman I’ve been hoping to find. Lucie gives me hope that I can fall in love again. She makes me believe I can trust another woman.”

  Josie expelled her breath in a deep sigh. “Katie really did a number on you, didn’t she?”

  “You could say that.”

  “But, Aren, Lucie doesn’t know the full truth about you.”

  That was the one stumbling block in his way. He hoped he’d be able to clear the air on Sunday either right before dinner or after. “She will soon enough, and if she’s half the woman I think she is, then she’ll be willing to look beyond that review.”

  “I don’t know what went wrong that first night at the restaurant,” Josie added.

  “I don’t either.” Still, Aren would stick by his review of the dish he was served. As far as he was concerned it was completely inedible.

  “I’ve been to the restaurant several times now,” Josie continued, “and the food is always incredible. I just don’t know what happened that night.”

  “I don’t know either, and I agree with you. Lucie is exceptionally gifted in the kitchen.”
br />   “She didn’t read Eaton Well’s column in today’s paper, did she?”

  “No, thank heaven.”

  “What happened? I thought your review was scheduled for next Saturday.”

  “I did, too. Apparently Sandy Markus decided to put it in this week following the article I wrote about what happened at Angels at Christmas. It makes sense seeing that I casually mention that we went to that restaurant following the play.”

  “She might have warned you.”

  “She might have told me?” Aren snickered. “Sandy has a paper to publish and what happens to me when one of my pieces is printed means nothing to her. In her mind I should be grateful for my job. And I am grateful. This has been a wonderful opportunity for me.”

  Josie hesitated for a moment and then asked, “You sure I can’t talk you into a movie?”

  “Not tonight, sis.”

  “Okay, well, I guess I’ll head to the theater on my own, then.”

  Josie did sound a bit down. These days she rarely mentioned Jack, but Aren knew the breakup remained fresh in his sister’s mind although it’d happened over a year ago. “What about asking one of your friends?”

  “It’s December; they’re all busy with shopping and family. Such is the life of a single woman.”

  “You ever hear from Jack?” Aren ventured. His question was followed by a short, uncomfortable silence.

  “Never,” she said without elaborating.

  His sister quickly changed the subject. She wasn’t interested in dating again, it seemed. Seeing how sensitive Josie was about Jack, Aren regretted bringing up the other man.

  They ended the conversation and, sometime later, Aren heated up a bowl of canned soup and made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He couldn’t help thinking about Lucie and how tired she must be. He decided to call her in the morning and offer to take her out to dinner instead of having her cook. She needed a break. He hoped they would have some privacy to discuss the article and his role at the newspaper.

  It was after eleven and Aren was watching TV when his doorbell chimed. His first thought was that it might be Lucie, but after checking the peephole he saw it wasn’t.