Mr. Miracle

by Debbie Macomber

  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.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  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.

  Addie selected him from her contact list and hoped he had his phone close at hand.

  “Hello,” he grumbled.

  “Hi. You okay?” she asked.

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”

  She could see his mood hadn’t improved. “Are you in bed?”

  He hesitated. “No, but I can be if that’s what you’d like.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Hey, I was serious.”

  “I’m not playing around,” she said. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the power’s out.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Then you’re okay?”

  Her question was followed by a short pause. “Do you want to come over and hang out?”

  “Is that what you’d like?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Do you have your pajamas on?”

  “No,” she drawled, “but I can put them on if you want me to.”

  He chuckled. “Come on over.”

  By all that was right she should ignore him and go back to bed, just the way she’d planned. However, she found his invitation too irresistible to refuse.

  “Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  The street was coal dark. Thick clouds obliterated any chance of moonlight reflecting off the remaining snow. Without the flashlight, Addie didn’t know if she could have walked the short distance between the two homes without incident.

  As was her custom, she knocked once and let herself into the house. “Erich?” she called from the entryway.

  “In here.”

  She flashed the light into the living room to find him sitting in the recliner.

  “Any idea what happened to cause the power to go out?” he asked.

  “It i
sn’t the weather, as far as I can see.” The wind or snowfall was often a cause of electrical failures, but the storm had come and gone before they lost power.

  “No doubt demand is bigger than supply,” he complained. “All these lights. It’s ridiculous. Half the street is lit up with decorations. It’s a waste of energy.”

  “Oh, honestly. What is it with you? You weren’t like this when we were kids. I’m totally confused by your attitude.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “What changed, Erich?”

  “I grew up. Now sit and hang awhile, okay?”

  “First you have to promise no more complaining.”

  “If it means you’ll stay.”

  “Deal.” She hesitated. “Would you like me to build a fire in the fireplace?” That would create a romantic atmosphere and perhaps put Erich in a better mood.

  “No thanks.”

  So much for that. She sat in the chair next to his and gradually relaxed. Addie had missed spending time with him. Refusing to allow him to dominate her time and, more important, her head, had taken some doing. She’d needed time away to put order to her thoughts. This thing with him and Christmas was rooted in something deeper than he was saying. Whatever had happened, he clearly had no intention of sharing with her, and she found that upsetting. They’d come a long way in the last ten days.

  They sat in the dark in companionable silence for several minutes. Not being able to see him offered a unique sense of freedom. In a strange way it lowered Addie’s walls and allowed her to feel she could be more open, honest, and direct with him.

  After a while, Erich said, “I’ve missed seeing you the last couple days.”

  So the darkness freed him to share his own feelings with her, too.

  “I’ve been here,” she said.

  “True, but you were in and out as if you had places to go and people to see. You didn’t seem to have much time for me.”

  It did her heart good to see that Erich had noticed her absence. “Guilty as charged.”

  “Is it about Christmas?”

  “I was tired of hearing you whine. But, yes, the truth is, I also had things to do.”

  “Like?”

  “I went shopping.”

  “At the mall?” he asked incredulously. “Are you crazy? This time of year it’s a madhouse—”

  “Grocery shopping,” she said, cutting him off, “for the class potluck.”

  “Ah yes, I forgot about that. Thanks for not bugging me about it.”

  “I believe you made your decision perfectly clear.” It rankled that he’d refused her invitation and hurt her feelings. “As it happened, I asked someone else.”

  Right away, she could tell he was suspicious. “Who?”

  “You don’t want to go with me, so it’s none of your business.”

  “Male or female?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes,” he countered sharply. “It matters to me.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  Silence. “Why?” he repeated. “Because I’ve got a thing for you.”

  “A thing? Translate, please.”

  Again he hesitated. “I like you … a lot. No one is more surprised over this than I am. For a long time I had trouble believing it, but then you kissed me—”

  “Hold on a minute,” she said, stopping him. “I kissed you? I sort of thought you were the one who kissed me.”

  “Getting back to my point.”

  “Yes,” she said, displaying the utmost patience.

  “I will if you stop interrupting me.”

  Addie grinned.

  “The point is, I’m falling for you, Addie. I didn’t much like it at first.”

  “Well, thank you ever so much.” The man needed a bit of tutoring when it came to giving compliments.

  “That didn’t come out right. I mean, think about it: We have history, and most of it is negative. And then I had to rely on you for practically everything, which didn’t do much for my ego. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but frankly, it’s been great. Better than great, and it all started about the time we first kissed.”

  Addie had to agree, it hadn’t been easy in the beginning. They’d been tentative with each other, hesitant and unsure. That hadn’t lasted long, though, and she was grateful. The only thing that stood between them now was whatever had led to his attitude toward Christmas.

  “Do you remember the last time we were in the dark?” Addie asked. She remembered that night all too well. “That was when you told me about Ashley.”

  The room went silent for the longest time.

  “Ah yes, Ashley.”

  Addie strained harder, fearing she heard longing in his voice as he said the other woman’s name. It came to her then what should have been obvious all along—something she’d chosen to ignore. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”

  It took him a minute to admit the truth. “I was at one time, not anymore.”

  “I don’t believe you. You still love her.” Addie’s stomach felt as though someone had given her a swift, hard kick.

  “No,” he insisted. “I was honest with you before; for a time I was crazy about her, and if you must know, I was devastated when she broke up with me. I’d never experienced pain like that.” He laughed softly. “Girls had broken up with me more than once, so it was hard to understand why it hit me so much harder this time around. Then I realized it was the way she did it. She waited until she knew I was in really deep and it would cut me to the core.”

  The thought of Erich loving another woman completely unsettled Addie. She had no right to feel that way—she had no claim on him. But that didn’t change how it affected her to hear it. Addie took a moment to absorb this mixed bag of emotions that assailed her.

  “No comment?” he asked, after several taut seconds in which neither spoke.

  “What would you like me to say?”

  He chuckled, his amusement drifting into the darkness like smoke dissipating in the wind. “I’d hoped you’d be insanely jealous.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  He laughed again. “Were you this witty when we were kids?”

  It hit her then, and she sat up straight as a stick pin. “Hold on a minute,” Addie murmured, and placed her hands on top of her head. Everything was starting to add up.

  “What?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “Erich, when did Ashley break up with you?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Just answer the question.” She wasn’t about to let him get away without answering.

  He hesitated and then answered on the tail end of a sigh. “On Christmas Day. We were with family and I got down on one knee to propose and … well, you can imagine the rest.”

  “I knew it. I knew it.”

  “What did you know?”

  “It isn’t just this Christmas that’s got you down. You’re still dying for the beautiful Ashley … the love of your life. That’s the reason you’re so negative about the holidays. That’s the reason you didn’t want me to put up the Christmas tree, or cook a special dinner. You’re living in the past, holding on to the memory of a broken heart, hanging on to the pain.”

  Addie leaped out of the chair. All at once it was much too difficult to sit in one place. For reasons she had yet to digest, she was red-hot angry. “How long do you intend to stay hidden while your heart heals?”

  “Ashley and I are finished. When I saw her the other day it was hard for me to believe I could ever have loved her.”

  “Right, and that was great for your pride, too, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, but it was necessary. What I don’t understand is why you’re so mad.”

  “You,” she cried. “You make me furious. You know what? I don’t think I can do this any longer.”

  “Do what?”

  She didn’t want to be rash and say something she would later regret. “I think it might be best if I left now. You don’t need me.”

&n
bsp; “You’re wrong, Addie. I need you more than ever. I don’t understand why you’re offended. What did I say? All I know is that I don’t want you to leave until we settle this. I did love Ashley, I’ll admit it, but it’s over. I swear to you it’s over.”

  Addie sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it, torn with what she should do. Before she could decide, the lights on the Christmas tree went on, and flashes of red, blue, and green filled the room, warming it with color.

  “The electricity is back,” she whispered.

  “No, it’s not. The lamp and the television are still off. The only lights are the ones on the tree, which I didn’t have on to begin with. What’s going on?”

  Addie glanced out the window, and he was right. The streetlights were still off, and so were the other lights in the neighborhood. Not a one shone in the darkness. The only lights that she could see were those on the Christmas tree.

  “That’s really strange,” she whispered.

  “It’s more than strange. This isn’t possible,” he said.

  “Maybe it’s a sign,” Addie suggested.

  “Who from?”

  “One of the three spirits from the Dickens novel,” Addie said, teasing. “I warned you this negative attitude of yours was going to get you in trouble. Well, here you are.”

  Whatever it was, she would leave him to it. “All I can say is, you’re on your own.”

  He followed her to the front door. “Addie,” he whispered, touching her shoulder.

  She turned around.

  His gaze held her captive. “I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

  “I’m not angry. It just bothers me that you’re choosing to hang on to your pain, because it means you’re not over Ashley as much as you think.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” he murmured, as he reached for her and brought her close. “Kiss me and show me you aren’t upset.”

  “I shouldn’t.”

  “Yes, you should,” he insisted, and lowered his mouth to capture hers.

  The kiss left her weak in the knees, a kiss that she felt all the way to the soles of her feet. It was as if he had to prove to her in a single kiss that he was completely over the other woman.

  “Addie?” he whispered, dragging his mouth reluctantly from hers.