“I’ll order for you,” Miracle said.
“And I’ll pay,” Carol offered. “She did give her wages away this morning,” she added as if she didn’t want to be accused of being nice. “And we’re using your MacBook Pro that weighs only four and a half pounds.”
“You’re just being nice and don’t want to admit it,” Miracle said, playfully kissing her on the cheek.
“Whatever,” Carol mumbled, blushing.
“We’ll both have a skinny latte with sugar-free vanilla and two shots of espresso,” Miracle said.
“I’ll have the same,” Carol said.
“You look sexy when you blush,” Miracle whispered in Carol’s ear.
“I’m not blushing. It’s hot in here,” Carol retorted, waving her hand in front of her face.
“Come this way, ladies, our table awaits,” Tom said.
“Here’s your orders,” Brian said, scooting them across the counter.
“Wow, I’ve never gotten service like this before,” Carol said, taking her latte.
“Any friend of Tom’s is a friend of mine,” Brian said. He winked at Tom, who tilted his head in acknowledgment.
“What is this? Zing is a chick magnet and Tom is royalty,” Carol muttered. “I don’t get it.”
“They do seem to have a certain je ne sais quoi that people are drawn to,” Miracle said.
“What is that?” Zing asked.
“It’s French for I don’t know what,” Miracle answered.
“But you said it. So you must know what it is,” Zing said.
“I do know.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know what.”
“Why don’t you know?” Zing asked.
“I do know,” Miracle said.
“Then what is it?”
“Stop!” Carol said forcefully. “Just forget the whole thing, Zing, before I lose it.”
They sat at a table in the corner. Tom rubbed his hands and Miracle handed over her laptop. “Where is the photo we want to search?” Tom asked.
“Where else? Catfish heaven, troller’s delight, the great ocean of lies,” Carol said.
“She means Facebook,” Miracle explained.
“Ah, yes, of course,” Tom said.
Zing sipped her latte. It was good. The only thing missing was donuts, but she noticed Starbucks sold scones. She must not think about it. Sugar was a monkey on her back. A monkey that would soon crash and leave her with another headache.
Tom sat patiently waiting, his fingers poised above the keyboard.
“Look up Dove Lance on Facebook,” Miracle said.
Zing didn’t have a Facebook page. She wondered if she should get one. Would that make her more human?
Tom went to Facebook and typed in Dove Lance’s name.
“You have a Facebook account?” Carol asked incredulously.
“Doesn’t everyone?” Tom said.
“I don’t,” Zing said.
Carol ignored her. “But you’re homeless, Tom.”
“I prefer to think of it as unencumbered by the constraints of real estate,” Tom said. “Now, it says here she has an author page but I don’t see a personal page. How does your friend Nell communicate with her?”
“They text, but I suppose this whole affair started with private messages. But the strange thing is, I can’t see Nell going to Dove’s author page in the first place. Nell isn’t a big reader, except for Dove’s books. Why would she even go there?” Carol asked.
“Maybe Dove Lance was the seeker,” Miracle said.
“Methinks the lady is correct,” Tom said. He stared intently at the screen.
Zing scooted over closer. So did the other two. It was a tight fit but they all managed to look over his shoulder at the small screen.
Carol studied Dove’s photo. “She’s not that pretty.”
“She’s got all the makings of pretty… long blond hair, sparkling blue eyes…” Miracle said.
Carol interjected, “They’re probably contacts.”
“And a very comely figure,” Tom said pointing at a particularly provocative cleavage shot.
“You would notice that,” Carol said.
“I am but a mere man,” Tom replied.
Zing watched as Tom scrolled through the photos: Dove Lance at the beach, Dove Lance eating spaghetti (and none of it was on her shirt), Dove Lance standing next to her family, Dove Lance in Italy, Dove Lance in Philadelphia, Dove Lance at the zoo, and Dove Lance riding a camel at the Renaissance Fair.
“Dove Lance sure is busy,” Zing noted.
“I don’t see any book signings,” Carol said.
“In this photo she is holding up a book. It says Dove Lance on the cover,” Tom said, pointing.
“That doesn’t necessarily prove anything,” Carol said.
“No, but it is the perfect picture to use.”
The three women watched intently as Tom copied the profile photo to the computer’s desktop, then dragged and dropped it into Google image search. The computer only took a moment before it got a hit. It showed the exact same photo was being used on another Facebook page. Tom clicked on that link and up popped a Facebook page for Mindy Williams.
Zing said, “I know her!”
“Who is it?” Tom asked.
“The dog walker! She gave me her business card.”
Carol and Miracle gasped aloud.
“It appears that Dove Lance and Mindy Williams are using the same profile photo,” Tom said.
“That means one of two things,” Carol said. “Either Mindy Williams is writing books under the name Dove Lance or—”
Miracle finished the sentence, “Or Dove Lance is using Mindy’s photos.”
“I vote for the latter,” Tom said. “It’s apparent that this Dove Lance person doesn’t want to be seen.”
“You think she’s disfigured or something?” Zing asked.
“Or something,” Carol said. “And we need to find out what that something is.”
“Tom, you’re a genius,” Miracle said, throwing her arms around him.
Tom nodded his head again. “’Tis nothing, my lady. I am glad to be of service.”
“Now what?” Carol said. “We still don’t know who the real Dove Lance is.”
“No, but we can talk to Mindy and see what she has to say about it,” Miracle replied. “Maybe this has happened before and she has a clue to figuring out the true identity of our mystery woman.” Miracle looked at Zing and asked, “Do you still have her card?”
“Of course. It would be rude to throw away a gift,” Zing replied.
“Good. Call her up and ask her out on a date,” Carol said. “And make it soon.”
“Can I text her instead?” Zing asked. She’d noticed that lots of people texted instead of actually calling the person.
“Sure,” Carol said. “You can be like all the other socially and emotionally detached people in the world.”
Miracle handed Zing her phone. “Use my phone.”
“But what do I text?” Zing asked.
“How about, ‘let’s meet for coffee when you’re free,’” Carol said.
“Oh, that sounds perfect,” Zing said.
She typed the message and pressed send. A return text came within the minute. As it turned out, Mindy was delighted to accept a date with Zing. They agreed to meet at this Starbucks for coffee and scones the next afternoon.
Zing handed Miracle her phone back, saying, “I know it’s for the greater good, but I feel so deceitful.”
“Welcome to the 21st century,” Carol said.
Chapter Eight
After closing the bakery the next day, Nell was walking out the back door when Carol stopped her by asking, “Where are you going?”
Nell stopped in her tracks and looked at Carol like she’d lost her mind. “To the doctor to have my stitches removed. I told you about it this morning.”
“Oh,” Carol said, removing her apron. “I thought you were sneaking out to mee
t Dove Lance.”
Zing stopped mopping the floor and gave Carol a look that plainly said “Don’t mention Dove Lance.” Carol and Zing had made a pact that one of them would try to be with Nell at all times and keep her from contacting Dove. That way they could uncover the truth about Dove Lance before Nell found out the hard way.
Nell looked from Zing to Carol and back again. Something odd was going on between them but she couldn’t figure out what. “First of all, I don’t ‘sneak.’ And second of all, Dove is in Kansas City at a Writer’s Conference, remember?”
“Right, you told me that. I guess I forgot,” Carol said. “I don’t know where my mind’s been lately.” She tossed her apron into a laundry basket.
“I know where it’s been,” Nell said, smiling. “And speaking of Miracle, are you seeing her again today?”
“We’re having lunch at that new place down the block,” Carol replied.
“Sounds like this is getting serious,” Nell said.
“We both have to eat. Might as well eat together,” Carol said.
“Uh-huh,” Nell said. “Well, have a good time.” She turned to go.
Carol and Zing gave each other a panicked look. Thinking quickly, Zing stopped Nell by asking, “Can I go with you?”
Nell turned back around. “You want to go with me? To get my stitches removed?”
Zing nodded excitedly. “I’ve never seen stitches get removed before. It’ll be. . . a learning experience.”
“Okay, if you want,” Nell said. She headed toward the door then turned back around. “We have to go now, though.”
Carol grabbed the mop from Zing, saying, “Let me do that. I’ll finish mopping and you can go with Nell.”
A look of pure surprise crossed Nell’s face. “I’ve never seen you be this nice, Carol. Miracle is making a new person out of you. I like it.” She looked at Zing. “I’ll wait in the car for you, but hurry. I don’t want to be late.”
As soon as the door shut behind Nell, Carol said, “Don’t let her talk or text Dove. Keep an eye on her at all times.”
“I would prefer to keep both eyes on her. Using only one eye cuts down on my peripheral vision.”
“Ugh,” Carol said and threw her arms up in the air. “Just go.”
***
Nell’s appointment was at the After Care Clinic in the same hospital where she’d been before. Driving back to the place of shame was difficult for Zing. She sat stiffly, hands folded in her lap in Nell’s old, but sturdy Volvo sedan.
“I like your car,” Zing said, trying to make conversation.
“Thanks,” Nell said.
“It has a very high safety rating.”
“That’s why I bought it,” Nell said.
“I know.”
“You know a lot about me, huh?”
“Yep. I’ve watched you since you were born.”
“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you. . .” Nell hesitated. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
“About?”
“When you were up there, you know, at HQ. . . How much did you see?”
“What do you mean?” Zing asked.
“Well, did you, you know, see me with other people?”
“Sure. But I only see other people when they’re with you. I can’t see into their lives or anything.”
“Uh-huh. . . But can you see me do everything?”
“Like what?”
“Like be on the toilet? Take a shower? That kind of thing?”
Zing laughed. “Yes, but it’s not the same.”
“How so?”
Zing bit her bottom lip as she thought about how to explain it. “Being an angel is different. We’re not body aware. Coming down here and having a body and everything that goes with it is very different. Like if I were to watch you take a shower right now while I’m human, I’d feel. . . things. You know, human feelings like lust and stuff. Well, angels don’t have those emotions. So our watching you shower or even make love with someone isn’t a big deal.”
“Kind of like your dog watching you take a shower,” Nell said.
“Exactly.”
Nell’s phone buzzed on the seat between them. Nell glanced at it. “Damn. That’s probably Dove. And I’m driving and can’t answer.”
Zing picked up the phone, saying, “I’ll see if it’s her.” She looked at the phone’s screen. It was Dove. And the text said, “I miss you, lover. Do you miss me?”
Zing bobbled the phone, squeaked out a whoopsie noise, and then threw the phone out her open window.
“What!” Nell screeched.
“Omigod!” Zing said. “I accidentally threw, I mean, dropped your phone out the window. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to accidentally do that!”
“We have to go back and get it!” Nell said, turning on her blinker and looking ahead for an exit off the highway.
Zing turned and stared out the back window. “Don’t bother. It was crunched to pieces under that big truck’s tires.”
Nell sat in silence, gritting her teeth. The blinker clicked. Clicked. Clicked.
“Blinker,” Zing said softly.
Nell turned it off.
“Sorry, Nell. I’ll buy you a new phone.”
“With what?”
“Maybe I can get one of those black credit cards like Miracle has?”
“Forget about it,” Nell said.
They sat in silence the rest of the ride. Zing didn’t know what made her destroy Nell’s phone. She had seen the word ‘lover’ in Dove’s text and had a moment of intense. . . jealousy? The next thing she knew she was pitching the phone out the window.
And lying.
She had lied more than once now. Lying was becoming the norm. Was that what happened to humans? They did things then lied all because of jealousy?
Being an angel had been easy next to this. Being human was a lot harder than she had thought it would be.
***
The nurse entered the exam room. She took Nell’s blood pressure and listened to her heart. Both were fine. Zing wanted to know what hers was and the nurse obliged. Zing’s blood pressure was 150/95 with an elevated heart beat.
“Is that bad?” Zing asked, lying down on the exam table. Nell moved to the nearby chair. “Should I make an appointment? I only have twenty-one more days. I want to live that long.”
“What happens in twenty-one days?” the nurse asked.
Nell quickly interjected, “She leaves the country. Twenty-one days until she leaves the country.”
That wasn’t exactly a lie, Zing thought. She was leaving the country. Maybe that’s how one was supposed to get around the lying thing—you could tell the truth, but not all the truth.
“You’ll still be able to go on your trip,” the nurse said. “You’ve just got a bad case of doctoritis.”
Zing popped up. “Is it fatal?”
The nurse laughed. “No, it’s a temporary condition.”
“Is there a shot, a pill, a cream, or poultice I should get?” Zing asked.
The nurse laughed again. “You really are a card,” she said.
“Isn’t she though?” Nell said with a loud fake laugh.
At that moment, the doctor entered. The nurse excused herself by pointing at Zing and saying, “Keep your eye on her. She’s a funny one.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” the doctor said. The nurse shut the door behind her as the doctor studied Nell’s chart. She looked up at Zing and smiled warmly. “How have you felt since the accident?” She put down the chart and began to gently probe Zing’s head.
“I’ve been a little down,” Zing said. “I feel as if the accident was all my fault.”
“Um… doctor?” Nell said, pointing to the stitches in her scalp.
“Just a moment,” the doctor said without looking at Nell. She began probing the other side of Zing’s head. “It was an accident, right? I believe that’s the definition of accident—that it’s nobody’s fault.”
“I never thought of it
that way,” Zing said. “What a relief!” She peered at Nell over the doctor’s shoulder and said, “Did you hear that? It was an accident.”
“I can’t seem to find. . .” the doctor said, now lifting Zing’s hair and peering intently at her scalp.
“Uh hum,” Nell said, clearing her throat. “Doctor? She’s not the patient. I am.”
The doctor turned and looked at Nell for the first time. “Oh. Well, it’s customary for the patient to sit up here and the visitor to sit in the chair.”
“Sorry,” Zing said, good-naturedly. She exchanged seats with Nell.
“Let’s start again, shall we?” the doctor said. She pulled Nell’s hair over to one side. “You’ve managed to disguise it well.” The doctor’s eyes gazed at Nell longer than was necessary.
Zing stood and leaned over the doctor’s shoulder. She wasn’t keen on how the doctor was looking at Nell. “She got a new haircut to cover the bald patch,” Zing said.
“Very pretty,” the doctor said.
Nell met the doctor’s intense gaze and color crept into her cheeks.
“Nell is always pretty,” Zing said, willing Nell to look into her eyes and not the doctor’s.
“And she’s going to look even prettier without those stitches.” The doctor turned to get her instruments and ran smack into Zing. “Maybe you could sit over there while I do this,” she suggested.
“I’d rather not,” Zing said.
“Zing, it’s all right. The doctor isn’t going to hurt me,” Nell said.
“That’s what they always say,” Zing retorted.
Nell and the doctor looked at her with puzzled expressions.
“Why are you being so weird? I mean, weirder than usual?” Nell asked as the doctor came in close with the scissors.
“Because as your guardian…” Zing started.
Nell cut her short. “I appreciate that, but I guarantee you, the doctor…”
“Please, call me Dawn,” the doctor said.
“Dr. Dawn isn’t going to hurt me,” Nell said. The doctor plucked at a stitch with her tweezers. “Ow! That hurt!”
Dr. Dawn held up a tiny black thread. “Got the first stitch.”
Quick as a flash, Zing stepped in between Nell and Dr. Dawn. She pointed a finger at the doctor’s nose, “Do. Not. Do. That. Again.”
Big Love Page 10
