Angels Everywhere

by Debbie Macomber

  “If Jeff were alive why wouldn’t he contact me or Timmy?” she asked reasonably.

  “He’s been very sick and weak. I haven’t talked to him myself yet, but the German official told me he’s recovering and asking about you and Timmy.”

  “Mom, give me the phone number of the person you’re talking to and I’ll contact him myself.”

  “I’m sorry, dear, I don’t have it. But everything he’s said is true, I swear it’s true, Jeff’s alive. You’ve got to believe me. You’ve got to break your engagement before Jeff learns you’re involved with another man.”

  “Mom, this is a cruel hoax. We buried Jeff, remember?” Jody gently reminded her.

  It was as if Gloria hadn’t heard her. “What am I supposed to tell my son when he phones? I demand that you tell this other man you’ve changed your mind. No, no, I’ll tell him for you. He’ll listen to me.”

  “Mom, please,” Jody pleaded, her voice low and trembling.

  Glen was standing next to her then, his arm around his shoulder. Gently he took the receiver from her hand, and explained that he was the man Jody was marrying. Naturally she couldn’t hear her former mother-in-law’s response.

  Jody turned into his arm and buried her face in his shoulder.

  “Grandma thinks my dad’s alive?” Timmy asked, when Glen had hung up the receiver.

  Jody was trembling too hard to respond. Glen continued to hold her, patting her back. “Your grandmother wants it to be true so badly that she’s convinced herself your father is still alive,” Glen explained, when it was apparent Jody was in no condition to do so.

  Somehow they made it through dinner, although the three of them took turns attempting to make a festive occasion of it. Glen tried the hardest. Timmy made an effort as well, and Jody too, however feeble. She was grateful when Glen claimed he was working on the brief for an important case and left shortly after they’d finished clearing the table.

  Jody walked him to the door. “I’m sorry about Gloria.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “We’ll get through this.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her gently.

  Jody let him out the door and watched until Glen’s car was out of sight. He was a good man, a decent man, but she didn’t feel any great passion for him. She smiled sadly and realized she’d been lucky enough to know about love from Jeff. Love wasn’t the reason she and Glen had decided to marry. They cared deeply for each other, shared the same goals, and were comfortable with one another. A lot of marriages had far less.

  “I’m done with my homework,” Timmy said some time later. Jody had finished the dishes and was busy writing out Christmas cards. She was later than usual this year.

  “Are you telling everyone about Glen?” Timmy surprised her by asking. He reached for the top card and read her brief note.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I thought we’d send out announcements later. I’ve already mailed out half my cards and it doesn’t seem fair that half my friends know and half don’t.”

  Timmy nodded as if her reasoning made perfect sense to him. He plopped his elbows on the table and tucked his chin in his hands as he watched her work.

  “You know what I wish?”

  “What?” she asked absently, thinking he was about to add another item to his detailed Christmas list.

  “I wish what Grandma Potter said was true. I wish my dad was alive.”

  Jody’s hand stilled as her fingers tightened around the pen. “I do too, sweetheart.”

  “Well, what do you think?” Shirley said, looking anxiously to Goodness. “Gabriel insists the winds of trouble are brewing, but I can’t see it. Jody’s engaged and from everything I can see Glen Richardson is a perfect match for her and Timmy.”

  Goodness, who was poised atop the Christmas tree, slowly shook her head. “You don’t know very much about humans and love, do you?”

  “Not really.”

  “After tracking Monica and Chet I could write a book.”

  “What’s wrong with Jody and Glen?” Shirley asked impatiently. “They’re great friends.”

  “I noticed, and that’s a great place to start a relationship.”

  “If you’re going to tell me Jody’s still in love with Jeff, I’ll agree with you. Good grief, I never dreamed this assignment would be so difficult. I do everything Gabriel wants and then he sends me hightailing it back to earth, claiming trouble’s afoot. But he won’t tell me where.”

  “It’s obvious,” Goodness said. “Glen doesn’t love her either.”

  “Now, I sincerely doubt that. Glen’s crazy about Jody.”

  “It’s the little boy,” Goodness said gently. “Glen’s impatient for a family, and Jody has one ready-made for him.”

  “I disagree.” Shirley might have been new at this business, but she didn’t doubt Glen’s honorable intentions for an instant.

  “Why don’t we check him out and see for ourselves,” Goodness suggested. “I’ll help you and then maybe you can help me. I’m having troubles of my own.”

  They left Timmy’s house and had no problem locating Glen’s. “He told her he was working on a brief,” Shirley explained.

  Glen was sitting at his desk, a pen poised in his hands, but he seemed to be having trouble. They watched for several moments while he did nothing more than stare into space.

  “What’s he doing?” Goodness whispered.

  “I don’t know. He seems to be thinking.”

  “Doesn’t he know that will only get him into trouble?”

  Shirley smiled. “I guess not. Look, he’s opening a drawer.”

  Glen’s shoulders heaved with a deep sigh as he removed a photograph from the bottom drawer. Goodness and Shirley looked over his shoulder. The photograph was that of a beautiful young woman with long black hair that cascaded over her shoulders.

  “There’s your trouble,” Goodness whispered. “Glen’s in love with another woman.”

  Seventeen

  This wasn’t going to be easy. Monica had carefully steeled herself for the coming confrontation with Chet. She stood outside his office door, her heart pounding hard and fast.

  Fervently she prayed she was doing the right thing. All she knew was that she couldn’t leave matters between them the way they were.

  She could hear movement and knew Chet was there. She drew in a deep breath, knocked, turned the door handle, and stepped inside.

  Chet was standing in front of his file cabinet, tossing one file after the other into a large cardboard container. Boxes were piled high on every bit of available space. His desk was clear, and the infamous calendar was down.

  He was moving. Leaving Seattle. Leaving her.

  “I won’t be taking on any new—” He stopped abruptly when he saw it was Monica. For one all-too-brief moment tenderness flashed in his eyes, but that was quickly replaced with practiced hardness. His gaze became sharp and dangerous like that of a cornered animal that was prepared to lash out in order to protect itself.

  “What are you doing here?” he said.

  “My father wanted me to apologize,” she began haltingly. “He never intended to offend you.”

  “You’ve apologized, now go.”

  What gave her to courage to stay, Monica would never know. “Why are you moving?”

  He didn’t answer, but continued working at a furious pace, lifting several thick folders at a time, carelessly tossing them into the box.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, trying a different vein.

  “Away. Monica,” her name was little more than a frustrated sigh, “please, just go. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”

  “All right,” she agreed and he visibly relaxed at her words. “If you answer one question.”

  “It’s over,” he said with sharp impatience. “Leave it at that.”

  “I can’t.” Monica had honestly tried to accept that he wanted her out of his life. But no matter h
ow hard she struggled to find acceptance none would come.

  “I’m not going to debate the issue with you.”

  “Just tell me why you don’t want my love,” she said forcefully. “Tell me what it is about me—”

  “It has nothing to do with you. The problem is mine.”

  “Then tell me. I need to know.” Despite her efforts to the contrary, her voice cracked with the strain of emotion.

  Chet moved as if he were in pain, slowly and with difficulty. His back was to her as he stared out the window. Monica stayed where she was by the door, trembling and hating herself for subjecting them to this torment a second time.

  The room seemed to spark with tension.

  “I know you love me,” she whispered. “You can’t make me believe you don’t. There has to be something more.”

  “I’m not good enough for you,” he shouted. “Now for the love of God get out of here.”

  “No,” she said softly. “Not until you tell me why you aren’t good enough.”

  “Monica, please.”

  She walked over and stood next to him. He was so close she could feel his frustration. It seemed to come off him in waves.

  “Why aren’t you good enough?” she asked again.

  Chet’s hands were braced against the windowsill, his knuckles white. A war was being waged within him and the battle seemed to be a fierce one. When he turned to face her, his eyes were dull with pain.

  “I murdered a man,” he shouted. “There, you know, now leave.” He pointed toward the door, his face growing red and angry. “Get out of my life, understand, before I ruin yours too.”

  The force of his anger rocked her, but Monica stood her ground. “I don’t know the circumstances,” she said shakily, “but if you killed him, then he must have deserved to die.”

  Chet jerked back as if she’d slapped him.

  “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, I’ll always love you.”

  “Damn you,” Chet cried, and then reached for her, hauling her into his arms. The strength of his embrace all but crushed her, but Monica didn’t care. There wasn’t any place else she would rather be than with Chet. He seemed to be drinking in her softness, as if it were as vital to him in that moment as oxygen.

  After a short while, he released a harsh shudder and relaxed his hold enough for her to breathe comfortably. He brushed the hair from her temple and kissed her there. “I’ll always love you, too,” he whispered brokenly.

  It felt like heaven to be in his arms. For the first time in days Monica felt whole, as if the part of her that had been missing had been found.

  “You’re right when you say he deserved to die. He was a drug lord and brought misery to thousands all for the sake of money and power. An easy death was too good for him. He deserved to suffer.”

  “Are you wanted by the police?”

  He shook his head and laughed shortly. “No, I was too smart for that. I goaded him into a fight and I knew, being the weasel he was, he’d go for his weapon. He did, but I was ready. After an investigation, it was decided that I acted in self-defense, but I knew the truth. I murdered him just as if I’d waited in a dark alley and shot him in the back. He didn’t have a chance.”

  “The gunshot wound,” she said, flattening her hand over the scar on Chet’s shoulder. She could feel it even through the material of his shirt. “That was when you were shot, wasn’t it?”

  “No,” Chet told her. “Not then.”

  “He scared you, though, didn’t he? Tell me what he did to you.”

  “None of that matters.” He released her then abruptly as if he feared her touch, and backed away. “You got the answer you wanted, now go.”

  “But, Chet—”

  “Go, damn you.”

  Monica flinched. “All right, but there’s something you should know.”

  “How much more of this is there?”

  “Not much, I promise you.” Her voice wobbled a bit, but with the strength of her pride she managed to keep it under control. “There’ll never be anyone who loves you more than I do.”

  “Monica.” He groaned. “Stop, please. This isn’t necessary.”

  “It is for me, so do me the courtesy of listening. Someday you’re going to look back on your life and regret this moment.”

  “The only thing I regret is not moving sooner. Another twenty-four hours and I would have been out of here. You couldn’t have waited one stinking day for this, could you?”

  “No,” she threw back at him. She didn’t know when the tears came, but she felt their moisture against her face and brushed them aside. “I’ll haunt you . . . or rather, my love will. I swear that’s what will happen. It doesn’t matter if you travel to the other side of the world, I’ll be there. It’s my face you’ll see when you look at another woman. And . . . and when you sleep, I’ll be there each and every night. You won’t be able to close your eyes without thinking of me, without knowing you walked away from the one woman in all this world who loves you.”

  “Damn it all to hell,” Chet stormed, his hands knotted into tight fists. “Next you’re going to tell me that you’re going to sacrifice your life for me. Listen, Monica, I don’t want you sitting here, believing that something’s going to happen that will change my mind. It’s over, understand? Over.”

  “Don’t worry,” she whispered and her shoulders quivered. “That’s what I came to tell you. I won’t be waiting for you. I can’t, Chet. I’ve wasted too much of my life already.”

  “Good,” he snapped. “That’s just the way I want it.”

  Jody had dreaded the office Christmas party for days. She never had been one who enjoyed these types of social gatherings, and generally didn’t stay beyond the first few minutes. Glen, however, thought the party the ideal time to announce their engagement to their peers.

  He’d presented her with a lovely engagement ring, a solitaire diamond that was large enough to feel heavy and awkward on her finger. She’d removed Jeff’s wedding ring years earlier, not because of any desire to put that part of her life behind her, but to satisfy her parents. Both were worried about her and although she’d hated it, she’d placed the simple gold band in her jewelry box to appease them.

  She could tell from the sounds drifting from the reception area that the party was underway. There were enough goodies to feed a small Third World country. Everyone had contributed something. Jody was guilty of overdoing it herself, bringing a large homemade cheese roll and several dozen gingerbread cookies Timmy had helped her bake the night before.

  Her mother was watching Timmy, and insisted Jody stay late and enjoy herself. Because she was with Glen, she was obligated to remain as long as her fiancé wanted.

  Glen came looking for her, his smile gentle. “You ready?” he asked.

  “Give me a moment to freshen up first, all right?”

  “Sure,” he said agreeably.

  It seemed for a couple engaged to be married, neither of them revealed a high degree of enthusiasm. Glen looked tired. Jody knew he was working hard on a difficult case and put a lot of time and effort into his client’s defense, but she strongly suspected his fatigue was something more than his workload.

  The rest room was several doors down the hall. Jody walked past a number of offices and wondered how many other Christmas parties were going on in the building that night.

  She’d just stepped into a cubicle in the ladies’ room when she heard two women.

  “You’re sure he’s engaged?” the first voice asked.

  “Yes. Lily took a good deal of delight in relaying the details to me.” The second woman sounded shaken and very close to tears.

  Jody bit down on her lower lip. Lily was an attorney who worked with Glen. Was it possible the two were referring to Glen and her? She wondered what she should do, or if she should say something.

  “Honestly, Maryann, what did you expect Glen to do? You told him in no uncertain terms that you weren’t interested in marriage.”

  Maryann. This
was the woman Glen had mentioned, the one he’d once loved. Jody squeezed her eyes closed and tried to remember the particulars of his and Maryann’s romance. All she could recall was that Glen was convinced Maryann didn’t love him. Breaking off the relationship had devastated him. It was this common ground of loss in which their own relationship had been rooted.

  “I . . . I assumed we could live together,” Maryann told her friend. “Couples do that these days, you know, test the waters to see if they’re compatible. It seemed to be a reasonable thing to do in light of all the divorce cases I’ve handled over the years. Oh, damn,” she said, “I hate it when I cry. Look what it’s doing to my makeup.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “About what?”

  Maryann’s voice faded and Jody assumed that was because she was studying her reflection in the mirror.

  “You aren’t going to let him go ahead with the wedding, are you?”

  “How can I stop him?” Maryann asked.

  “Tell him the truth.”

  Maryann hesitated, and when she spoke Jody could hear her tears. “I don’t even know what the truth is anymore.”

  “Tell him you’re in love with him.”

  “It’s too late for that. Oh, Shelly, honestly, you’re too much of a romantic to realize love doesn’t automatically fix everything.”

  “It does if you’re both willing to work at it,” Maryann’s friend insisted.

  Afraid of eavesdropping any longer, Jody walked out of the cubicle. It was then that the two women realized they weren’t alone. Embarrassed, they both avoided looking in Jody’s direction. Taking advantage of their surprise, Jody quietly slipped out of the rest room.

  She returned to her office, walking past the merrymakers, needing some time alone to absorb what she’d learned. Sitting at her desk, she closed her eyes and tried to reason out what she should do.

  The answer should have been far less complex than she was making it. Her sense of fairness said she needed to break off the engagement and explain what she’d heard to Glen. It was an ironic twist that in all the time she’d worked in the building she would meet Maryann now and overhear the conversation she had.