Angels at the Table: A Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy Christmas Story

by Debbie Macomber

  He didn’t respond, which was just as well. Arguing the point would do no good.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she continued. “Tell me now and be truthful. Did the sole actually taste that bad?”

  Again Aren hesitated as if looking for a way around the truth, his truth. “Everyone has an off day now and again.”

  “That bad?” she repeated, louder this time, more insistent.

  A heartbeat passed before he answered. “Yes, that bad.”

  “I see,” she choked out. “That tells me everything.”

  “Lucie, you’re being unreasonable and unfair.”

  “I’m being unfair? Well, if that isn’t calling the kettle black I don’t know what is.”

  “Okay, fine, if you don’t want to see me again—”

  “You should have told me who you really are long before now,” she argued.

  “I couldn’t. My contract doesn’t allow me to tell you outright, so I did the best I could. I was as honest as possible. I told you the only way I could by quoting you in my column. I knew the minute you read the review you would know. You can’t fault me for misleading you.”

  He was right, and while she wanted to argue with him, she couldn’t. That didn’t change the fact that he was the man who’d been willing to ruin her and her mother’s investment. Lucie couldn’t overlook that.

  “I understand that you did your best not to deceive me …” she began. That was key to him, she realized, because he’d been deceived by his wife. Nevertheless it didn’t alter the fact that he was who he was.

  “But …” He said it before she had the chance.

  “But it isn’t working, Aren. It just isn’t working.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Excuse me?” she flared. Lucie hadn’t expected this to be easy. What she found difficult was the way he challenged her. She anticipated Aren would respond with angry pride and defend his actions. Instead he sounded reasonable and unruffled, making it all the harder to do what needed to be done.

  “You heard me loud and clear. Our relationship is working and that frightens you. You’ve come to trust me and when I found fault with your cooking you couldn’t take the criticism.”

  “You’re so off base it isn’t even funny.” This wasn’t about pride. The problem was she was falling for Aren and falling hard. The man she didn’t feel she could trust was Eaton Well and to discover they were one and the same made it necessary to reassess their relationship.

  “I doubt I’m that far off base,” he returned, sounding completely unruffled. “You’re afraid.”

  “Okay, I’m afraid. I’ll admit it.”

  He paused as if he hadn’t expected her to own up to her own fears.

  “What are you really saying, Lucie? Do you want to take a breather or do you want to cut off our relationship entirely?”

  “I … think it would be best if we didn’t see each other.”

  “Ever again?”

  Lucie closed her eyes and tightened her hold on her cellphone. Already it was pressed against her ear so hard it would leave an indentation. “I … don’t know.” Now wasn’t the time to make that kind of decision.

  “Leaving me dangling seems rather unfair, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” she had to agree.

  “Then decide. If you want to take a break then let’s do it. We can meet again in a month or two and talk then.”

  “I … need longer.”

  “Three months?”

  “I don’t know.” She closed her eyes.

  Aren chuckled softly and without humor. “I believe I’m getting the message. You want me completely out of your life but you don’t have the courage to say it.”

  Lucie didn’t know if that was true or not. “I … don’t know what to say. I need time.”

  “Then take all the time you need. But I’m sticking by my review. I don’t know what happened that night with the sole, but in my opinion it should never have been served.

  “You had over three hundred patrons who strongly disagreed with me and I had the opportunity to dine a second time at Heavenly Delights, and I was glad I did because the meal was wonderful. I wrote a rave review. I gave you another chance.”

  “I know,” she whispered, feeling dreadful. He had written a positive review but that was after he knew she was the chef.

  “It’s a shame you’re unwilling to do the same for me.”

  Before she could say another word, Aren whispered, “Good-bye, Lucie,” and hung up.

  “How did Lucie get that newspaper?” Mercy cried, watching events unfold from the Brooklyn skyline above Lucie’s apartment. “Who was assigned to watch her?”

  Will reluctantly raised his hand. “She was in the basement. I didn’t even see who gave it to her. I’m so sorry … and now everything is ruined, and once again it’s all my fault.”

  Gabriel appeared beside them, arriving unexpectedly and with little fanfare. “So how is the romance developing between Lucie and Aren?” he asked, although Mercy strongly suspected he already knew the answer.

  No one seemed inclined to respond.

  “She just told him she doesn’t want to see him,” Shirley muttered. “And it’s all our fault.”

  “We messed with her sauce for the fish and that upset God’s plan,” Will admitted.

  “That’s the problem,” Gabriel said and folded his arms over his massive chest. “And it’s a big one. There’s a very good reason Prayer Ambassadors are asked not to get involved with matters on Earth. When you do, things can get messy.”

  “Real messy,” Shirley agreed. “And I’m to blame.”

  “I’m at fault, too,” Goodness confessed.

  “We’re all guilty,” Mercy chimed in, and the worst of it was they’d led young Will astray as well.

  “Can we fix it?” Will asked eagerly.

  Gabriel looked from one to the other. “I think it might be best if you left it alone and let Lucie and Aren sort this out for themselves,” he suggested.

  “But will they?” Mercy pleaded, needing to know. It grieved her that two people who seemed so right together would allow this to stand between them. She wanted to help but knew she dared not.

  “What happens is up to them,” Gabriel said, and then he did something completely out of character. Gabriel gently patted Mercy’s shoulder. “We aren’t meant to understand why humans make the decisions they do. It’s all about free will.”

  “But Aren and Lucie are so right for each other,” Will argued.

  “Are they?” Gabriel posed the question.

  Unfortunately the answer was one Shirley, Goodness, Mercy, and Will didn’t know.

  “Why the glum look?” Josie asked when Aren met his sister Monday morning. “I thought you spent the day with Lucie and she cooked you dinner.”

  “I didn’t go.”

  “What?” Josie nearly stumbled into the man standing in front of her in the Starbucks line. “Why not? Being with Lucie was all you could talk about on Saturday.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. The one doing the talking had been his sister. Josie had been bemoaning the sorry state of her life after she saw Jack. Aren wished now he’d been a little more sympathetic seeing that he was currently the one on the receiving end of rejection.

  “It’s over between us,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if it was of little consequence. In reality, Lucie was all he’d thought about from the moment he’d disconnected the call. She’d made her feelings clear. No matter what he said, Lucie wasn’t going to change her mind. She wanted a breather, or so she said, but he didn’t need a crystal ball to read her mind. Lucie didn’t want anything more to do with him, only she hadn’t been strong enough to say it.

  One look told him Josie had figured out what had happened. “Lucie read the column, didn’t she?”

  The Starbucks line moved forward and so did they. “Yeah, and sweet as she appears, she doesn’t have a forgiving nature.”

  Josie frowned. “Are you
going to leave it like that?”

  Aren’s gaze shot to his sister. “I don’t have any choice.”

  “Hold on just a minute. Weren’t you the one who lectured me about Jack and pride and telling me that if I was really in love with him I couldn’t take our breakup sitting down?”

  “I said all that?” Aren wanted to eat those words now, seeing that they were coming back to bite him.

  “That and more.”

  “Did you take them to heart?” He knew she hadn’t and now, seeing the situation from her side, he understood why.

  “As a matter of fact I did.” Seeing that it was her turn in line, Josie stepped to the counter and ordered for the both of them.

  Aren hadn’t expected his sister to buy his coffee. He’d done it for her recently and apparently this was payback.

  The barista handed them each a grande coffee and Josie paid with a swipe of her debit card. They started toward the subway when Aren pushed for more information.

  “You contacted Jack?”

  “Not yet, but I thought long and hard about what you said. You’re right, Aren. I have to face the fact that I do care for Jack. What I need to decide is if the pain I felt seeing him with another woman was real or if I was simply jealous and angry that he’s recovered enough to date someone new.”

  “What did you decide?”

  “I haven’t … not yet.”

  Aren shook his head. They were certainly a pair, hurting and broken and both unwilling to let go of their pride. “I’m beginning to think I’d be better off concentrating on my career,” he told his sister. “It’s best if I avoid relationships completely.”

  “Don’t be silly. You want a wife and family.”

  “Who says?” he argued.

  “I do. You’d make a wonderful husband and father. You can’t let a little bad luck stand in your way.”

  “It’s more than bad luck. This is karma. Every relationship I’ve had—or been close to having—has gone down in flames.”

  “Not true. What about Mary Jane Milton. She was crazy about you in high school.”

  “I saw her at our last high school reunion. Married, three kids, and another on the way.”

  “See, you didn’t act fast enough.”

  “I was seventeen.”

  They came to the subway and his sister paused. “Meet me for dinner,” Josie insisted.

  “I’m working late,” he muttered. He knew she wanted to help, but this thing with Lucie was fresh in his mind and he preferred to take a couple of days to lick his wounds.

  “Fine, call me when you’re finished and we’ll meet somewhere convenient.”

  “I …”

  “Don’t argue with me,” she said and started down the stairs. Halfway down, she paused and looked back. “Don’t disappoint me, Aren.”

  It didn’t look as if he’d be able to get out of this easily, so he decided to make the best of it. Dinner with his sister should be safe enough.

  Thankfully Aren was busy from the moment he walked into work. The distractions helped keep his mind off Lucie. He ate lunch at his desk, swallowing his sandwich of roast beef with horseradish sauce and a cup of hot coffee. By six he was tired and out of sorts. Dinner with Josie held little appeal, seeing that she was sure to lecture him. Aren wished now he’d kept his mouth shut when it came to dishing out advice, especially now that Josie was sure to give it back to him.

  Being a dutiful brother, he called her as promised.

  “You hungry?” she asked.

  Aren had to think about it. “I suppose.”

  “Great. Meet me at the Italian place I told you about.” She gave him the cross streets.

  “Are you buying?”

  “Yes, so don’t argue.”

  Aren realized giving her an excuse wouldn’t do any good, so he capitulated. He didn’t have any trouble catching a taxi and did his best to ignore the festive mood that seemed to permeate the city. He didn’t want to think about Christmas. He had other matters on his mind. Not matters, he admitted, Lucie. He tried not to think about their painful conversation but it kept repeating itself in his mind. Bottom line: Lucie didn’t feel she could trust him. She claimed she didn’t know him.

  Josie was waiting outside the restaurant when Aren’s taxi pulled to a stop at the curb.

  “This is one of my favorite restaurants in the entire city,” Josie said as way of greeting. “Their red sauce is the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Why haven’t you suggested we eat here before now?” he asked. He often talked restaurants with his sister. She loved Italian but he could remember her mentioning this place only once before.

  She hesitated. “It was Jack’s and my favorite spot. Mostly I didn’t want to bring up a bunch of hurtful memories so I’ve avoided coming here ever since our breakup, which is silly.”

  Aren hesitated. “Aren’t you afraid of running into Jack?”

  Josie shook her head. “He probably doesn’t want to chance meeting up with me in the place we used to think of as ‘our restaurant.’ ”

  Aren hoped his sister was right. Then, on second thought, it might serve Jack and Josie well if they did happen to stumble across each other. If Jack’s reaction was even close to his sister’s, then perhaps there was hope for the two of them. And if matters could be patched up between the pair, just maybe it could happen for him and Lucie. Aren frowned. His mind was playing silly tricks on him.

  Aren held the door open for his sister. She paused just inside the restaurant and whispered, “And if Jack does happen to show I’ll smile and pretend I’m having the time of my life.”

  “Right,” Aren whispered back.

  The hostess smiled warmly when she saw Josie.

  “Oh, Miss, it’s so good to see you.”

  “You, too,” Josie said. “Is my favorite table available?”

  Aren didn’t pay much attention to the exchange between the two women as he was distracted by the enticing scents coming from the kitchen. He momentarily closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. A mixture of garlic and spices, tomatoes and basil. If the aroma was anything to go by he was in for a treat.

  In just a matter of minutes they were escorted to a table and handed menus. Even before Aren had a chance to review the selections, breadsticks were delivered to their table.

  “The breadsticks are baked here every afternoon,” Josie told him. “They’re divine. Jack always said we could make a meal out of them alone.”

  “How’s the ravioli?” he asked, more interested in studying the menu. He had to admit he was impressed.

  A pained look bled into Josie’s expression. “The cheese ravioli were Jack’s favorite. He’d order them every time we dined here, and we came at least once a week.”

  “What about you? What did you order?”

  She smiled then. “Everything. The food is so good, I wanted to try every last thing on the menu. I’d worked my way through the appetizers and the salads and I was halfway through the entrées when we split.”

  “Did you have a favorite?”

  “That’s just it. Every dish is simply wonderful. I was even inspired to try to make some of the appetizers myself, especially the rolled eggplant, but my attempts were never as good as what we had here, so we just kept coming back week after week.”

  The waiter came for their order and Aren asked for the cheese-stuffed ravioli. Josie had just finished telling the waiter she wanted to try their seafood spaghetti when she abruptly went still. Aren didn’t need anyone to tell him Josie had spied Jack. He could almost have guaranteed this would happen.

  Leaning across the table, Aren asked, “Is Miss Universe with him?”

  Josie held her head high and nodded ever so slightly. “Oh, yes, and she’s as gorgeous as ever.”

  Because Aren’s back was to the entrance, he couldn’t see, and turning around to look would have upset Josie, although he was tempted.

  Josie smiled and nodded. “He just saw me,” she said under her breath.

  �
�And?”

  “And he looks pretty shaken up. Good. Now he knows how I felt when I saw him last Saturday night.” She leaned across the table and whispered, “Laugh.”

  Aren blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Don’t be dense. I want you to laugh as if I’m the funniest, most clever woman you’ve ever met in your life.”

  “Josie.” Aren wasn’t up to playing games.

  “Please, Aren, do this for me. I’ll never ask anything of you again as long as I live.”

  That was a likely story. He was beginning to think his sister had set up this entire meeting and he’d blindly walked into her plans.

  “Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

  “All right, all right.” He chuckled and managed a weak smile.

  “Louder,” Josie whispered.

  “This is ridiculous.” He should have suspected something was up when Josie mentioned a favorite table and insisted on sitting facing the door.

  To keep the peace, Aren laughed again, with a bit more energy this time.

  She smiled with a dreamy expression. “That was perfect.”

  “Thanks.”

  Josie leaned closer and became more animated, laughing softly while Aren did his best not to roll his eyes. His sister was overdoing it. She pressed her hand over her heart and smiled at him as though she hung on every little word Aren uttered.

  “The least you could do is play along,” his sister hissed when he glared back at her.

  “What’s Jack doing now?” Aren asked.

  Josie looked mighty pleased with herself. “He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off us.”

  “Where’s he sitting?”

  “Two tables over against the wall.”

  Aren set his napkin on the tabletop, then he stood up without a word.

  “What are you doing?” Josie whispered as a worried look came over her features. “Aren, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I swear I’ll never speak to you again.”

  He grinned and shrugged. “I should be so lucky.”

  “Aren,” she pleaded frantically, half-standing as though to stop him.

  He had no intention of being dissuaded. His sister was miserable and if Jack hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her then Aren suspected Jack felt the same way about her.