Proof of Angels

by Mary Curran Hackett

  “And I am afraid the person you remember is the person you will love. I am afraid you won’t like the person I have become,” Chiara said in a whisper as tourists walked by them.

  “I am afraid of the same thing, Chiara,” Sean leaned in and whispered back.

  “You know, I didn’t go back to work after I left the café.”

  “No?”

  “No, I went to the Duomo. Something you said over lunch reminded me that I hadn’t been there in a long time. I climbed to the top of the lookout. Just like we did on the day we met.”

  “You did? You must be exhausted,” Sean said, looking her over. She didn’t look any the worse for wear despite the exhausting climb to the top.

  “I am tired. But it was good. I stood up there and looked out over all of Florence and then beyond. After you left all those years ago, do you know many hours I spent up there looking for you? I thought I could stand up there and see you below, sitting in a café or walking down the street. I thought all I would have to do was just see you once. Just once and I would be cured. I’d forget you. Forget your name. But I never did. So I stood up there again today knowing that you really were somewhere in this city and I could see you again tonight. And if things went well, I could see you tomorrow, and the day after that. And I started to cry because I realized that was what I wanted. I wanted that. Back then I had prayed every day that you would come back. I had bargained and promised and begged over and over. I had wanted this. My entire adult life, no matter what man I was with, I had dreamed of the day that you would come back. Have you ever gotten what you wanted?”

  Sean shook his head.

  “Exactly. No one gets what they want. The simple act of wishing it to come true almost necessitates that the opposite happens. The secret to life’s happiness is not wanting. It’s not getting what you’ve always hoped for or imagined. It’s managing your expectations.”

  Sean nodded and listened. Though thousands of miles apart, she had changed, just as he had. She had come to the same forgone conclusions that he had.

  “But you came. Why?” Sean asked.

  “I came because for the first time in my life I realized that this was what I wanted. This. This. You. To hell with the disappointment. The pain. I want you. And to say it out loud and admit it to myself is proof enough.”

  “Proof of what?”

  “Proof that my father was right. Proof that if you make a promise to the light, the light will reward you.”

  “What do you mean exactly?”

  “I made a promise a long time ago that I would love you forever. I would say your name every day even if you didn’t come back. I would say it anyway and I would l love you anyway if he just granted me this one wish: that he would take care of you and watch over you. That he would send his light out, the same light my father prayed to, and watch over you and protect you. And when I saw those burns and your cane, I knew my prayers had been answered. The light protected you. It guided you and kept you alive during something awful. God had held up his end of the bargain, and it’s my turn to hold up mine. I will say your name every day and love you forever, Sean Magee.”

  Sean took Chiara’s hand and felt it tremble in his.

  “I made a promise, too, Chiara,” Sean said, bursting with hope and breathless. “When I was at my darkest and lowest point, when I was lost in the fire and abandoned all hope, I thought that if I just found the space where I started from, then I’d find my way out. If I could just go back to where I started, I’d figure it out. But I couldn’t find that place. I couldn’t. So I made a promise, too. I promised that if I found a way out of the fire, I would become a better man. I would find you and I would make things right. And as soon as I did, I saw this light, this incredible light, like an angel, who showed me the way out of the dark. And now I am here. I am here for you. And now I realize it was because of you, Chiara. All of this was because of you.”

  Chiara shook her head back and forth in amazement. “Do you know why I picked this place, this place of all the places we shared here in Florence? Not my home? Not the Duomo? Nowhere else but here? Right here? This place? This moment?”

  Sean shook his head and listened.

  “I picked this place, this moment, you—because I thought if we could just get back to where we started from we might find our way back to the light together.”

  Acknowledgments

  I WOULD LIKE TO THANK MY EDITOR, LUCIA MACRO, WHO had faith in me and this book, even when I did not, and for showing me the way to do it better. Her name means light, and she literally showed it to me when writing this book. I will forever be in her debt. And for my steadfast agent, Marly Rusoff, who could have dropped me after my epic fail, but didn’t. Also, I’d like to thank the incredible talent at HarperCollins who shepherded this book through its many stages. Most especially Nicole Fischer, editorial assistant, who took care of so many details and pointed me in the right direction more times than I can count. Dale Rohrbaugh, production editor, who kept this book on schedule. Danielle Emrich, who is not only the best publicist and champion a writer could hope for but a good friend and mother, too. Victoria Mathews, the most precise and astonishingly thorough copy editor I could have asked for, who saved me from my repetitive self countless times, yes, countless times. Intentional repetition in this instance. Victoria, please STET. Wink. And last but certainly not least, Amanda Kain, cover designer, who created the gorgeous cover for Proof of Angels. It took my breath away the first time I saw it and still does. Thank you all.

  I would also like to thank my husband for countless trips to Home Depot, Target, and the Y, just to get the kids out of the house long enough for me to scribble a few thoughts on paper, only to have him find me fifteen hours later still in my pajamas and covered in melted chocolate and coffee spills and still clacking away. Thanks for putting up with me. And thanks to my kids, who also put up with my writing, not one, but two novels in the course of six months while I started a new job, and who rarely complained when I forgot to pack their school snacks, wash their uniforms, or sign their permission slips to all of their Guardian Angel functions. You’re welcome in advance for when you both become world-famous memoirists detailing your neglectful mother’s many lapses.

  I’d like to thank the usual suspects who have supported my writing from the beginning, most notably my sister Eileen Curran and my brother Sean Curran who read my stuff and who encouraged me to keep going and quit my bitchin’. Of course my parents, Maggie and Phil Curran, who gave me seven angels in the form of siblings and who have purchased and handed out so many copies of Proof of Heaven they could wallpaper their kitchen with the receipts. Thank you.

  And a special shout-out to my favorite bookseller, Audrey Bullar at Joseph-Beth, for always passing along books that keep me inspired.

  And most important, all the angels who have stood by me and urged me on, I have written your names on my own long list of proof of angels, and I carry your names in the pocket by my heart always.

  And finally thank you to the Venerable Solanus Casey, who I prayed to and thanked ahead of time for the publication of Proof of Heaven and Proof of Angels and the ability to do what I always wanted to do: write. And who I promised that in return for this gift, I would say his name always and remember him daily. As a porter, he opened the door for all people and showed them the light. And he did that for me long after he left this life for another.

  P.S. Insights, Interviews & More . . .

  About the book

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  Q&A with Mary Curran Hackett

  Reading Group Discussion Questions

  Read on

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  More from Mary Curran Hackett

  About the book

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  Q&A with Mary Curran Hackett

  In your first book, Proof of Heaven, Sean was an important but secondary character. What motivated you to give him his own story?

  The simple answer is that everyone from my edi
tor to my siblings to my book club fans wanted “more” Sean after reading Proof of Heaven. He’s a fun character. He’s not perfect. He says some outrageous things. He messes up a lot. And for that reason, quite honestly, he was one of my favorite characters in Proof of Heaven, too. I love him, not despite, but especially because of all his flaws. In Proof of Heaven, he didn’t accept everything blindly. He doubted everything, and everything was such a struggle and a fight for him. While in Proof of Angels we see him mostly on his own, in Proof of Heaven we see him interacting mostly in a foster-father role. He takes care of his nephew; sometimes he does the job well, sometimes he’s just terrible at it and causes more harm than good. But you can’t deny his love for the boy. It makes him endearing. In real life, I know so many “Seans”—so many people with huge hearts who want to do the right thing, but there is a gap between what they want to do and what they are capable of doing. Something always gets in the way of each of them doing the right thing. And I have to say I get why, because I’ve definitely had my own share of “Sean” moments. I’ve messed up my life and the lives of others more times than I can count. And getting to spend time with Sean’s character and Sean’s friends made me remember all the angels I’ve had along the way who have led me back to where I started from, so I could eventually see the light, too. As I mentioned in the back of Proof of Heaven, a long time ago I loved a boy just like Sean. He was going to be a priest. Eventually he became an alcoholic. He struggled for years before he got the help he needed, and in the process he hurt himself and a lot of other people. I had no idea how tormented he was by a lot of things and, quite truthfully, there are some things I’ll never understand. So in a way, Proof of Angels was a way I could explore that part of the human psyche—the part we all have—that causes each of us to self-destruct and, conversely, that helps us to find our way back to the light.

  Do you need to read Proof of Heaven in order to enjoy Proof of Angels?

  My agent and publisher might not like my saying this, but no, you don’t need to read Proof of Heaven to enjoy Proof of Angels. When I did allude to Sean’s past in this book, I tried, wherever I could, to fill in the blanks. This may seem a bit repetitive to those who read Proof of Heaven, but I hope I told a different enough story. (Though I highly recommend that you do read Proof of Heaven, if for nothing else but to find out more about Colm, Cathleen, and Gaspar, who are mentioned a bit in this book but not fully explored here.)

  Was it difficult to give those who hadn’t read Proof of Heaven enough backstory about Sean without overwhelming the work and alienating readers who already knew about him from that book?

  I thought it was going to be difficult at first, because Proof of Angels is really all about what makes Sean the person who is Sean. And I couldn’t possibly tell the story without mentioning so much of what happened to him in Proof of Heaven. In Proof of Heaven, we learn he’s an alcoholic, and he struggles with his faith; he has a hard time accepting his sister’s faith and her means of trying to save her sick son. We also see how lonely he is, and in many ways, how tormented he is by his past. I was worried that by repeating that backstory, I might lose readers. But, at the same time, Proof of Heaven was much more about Colm and Cathleen than it was about Sean. In Proof of Heaven, we really didn’t know much about what made Sean who he is—there were still a lot of holes there that needed to be filled. So with Proof of Angels, I could go deeper and find out more about him. We didn’t know much about what happened to him in Italy in Proof of Heaven, nor do we know what happened to him after Colm’s final collapse on the mountaintop in Los Angeles. By giving Sean the opportunity to start his life over without his sister, brother-in-law, or nephew around, I was forced to think about him in a new way and see the kind of life he could build for himself without them. Also, in Proof of Angels, we got to see what he was really made of. He is the one struggling and suffering in this book, and he’s the one who has to figure out what he believes.

  Why did you have Sean move to Los Angeles of all places?

  I picked Los Angeles because it is the “City of Angels” and therefore the name would lend itself to the total theme. But more than that, it was a place that held special significance for Sean. It is the point of transformation for his sister and himself. Three years earlier his nephew had his final collapse in Los Angeles. So much for Sean changed during that trip. He witnessed something miraculous (again, regardless of whether Colm lives or dies, the experience itself changed him fundamentally). Another reason was that in Proof of Heaven, Sean expressed a love of the water, as well as the need to be free and get away. He had a pattern, “a routine” rather, of running when life got tough, and how much farther could he have run from New York than across the country? I also wanted to incorporate my own love of the water with Sean’s. And while it’s true that New York City has water, I don’t know many New Yorkers who get on the train and ride an hour to Coney Island every day to hit the waves each morning. By living right on Venice Beach, Sean could literally walk out of his apartment and be part of that water. I also chose Venice Beach because it, even if Sean wasn’t aware of it himself when he picked the area, had a deep connection to Italy. Venice Beach was originally designed to have canals much like Venice, Italy. And whether Sean was aware of it or not, he was always, in some way, trying to get back to where he was most happy, most alive. And for him, that was Italy, where Chiara was.

  How did you pick your epigraphs?

  Oh, I love this question. I love to read. I love words. (Go figure.) And over the years, I have collected many quotes that have resonated with me. In fact, Proof of Heaven, in many ways, came about because of the epigraphs that open the book. Those quotes inspired and framed the entire story. Similarly, the quotes that open this book, “Go forth and set the world on fire” by St. Ignatius of Loyola, “Angel came down from heaven yesterday/She stayed with me just long enough to rescue me” by Jimi Hendrix and “The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone” by George Eliot, set a spark in me and made me think about my story on three different levels. St. Ignatius Loyola’s quote really got me thinking about Sean, who embodied fire. He is the epitome of “live by the sword, die by the sword.” He is so fiery, so temperamental, and in the end it gets the best of him but also, conversely, saves him. If he could just learn to harness that fire and put it to good use in the world, he would find he has the power to not only change his own life but the lives of everyone he touches. I work for a Jesuit institution now, Xavier University, and I have learned a lot about Ignatius Loyola’s belief that the divine is in everything and that it is our job as humans on earth to look for the miraculous and, when we find it, share it with the world.

  Jimi Hendrix’s “Angel” is not only an amazing tune, its lyrics always struck me. In it Hendrix talks about an angel that came down from heaven and stayed long enough to rescue him. I’ve often thought about what that meant to Hendrix, and even wondered about what it meant for me. Did I ever have an angel come down and stay long enough to rescue me? So I wanted that experience to happen to Sean. I have met so many people who speak of their guardian angels as if they are real and present, and have helped them in difficult times, and equally I have met others who speak of “real-life” angels who have swept in and helped them out when they are in need. This book explores both sets of angels—the seen and the unseen. And I guess it provokes the question in the reader: What do you believe?

  And finally, George Eliot’s quote encapsulates everything this book is about—our angels, whether seen or unseen, only stay for a little while, and we often don’t know how profoundly they changed our lives until they are gone. Another one of my favorite quotes in the book is Tennessee Williams’s “If I got rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.” I mean, how true is that? Sometimes we don’t know who are angels in our lives until we have totally messed up. In fact, I don’t think we know who are true friends until we have become so unlova
ble and difficult to be around. It’s then that we see who is strong enough and compassionate enough to stick around and love us despite our demons. That is when we truly know who our angels really are.

  And finally, I’m a huge Mary Karr fan. Her book Lit in particular struck several chords with me—as a writer, a mother, a teacher, and someone who has struggled with depression and dependence. Her epigraph that opens the prologue is precisely what that entire section, and hence the book, is about: When we see the light, we often don’t know what we’re seeing or experiencing. We’re disorientated, lost; it takes us a while to get our bearings, and find our true path, and in this book that is precisely what Sean, and everyone else, really, is trying to do.

  At one point you say that “dogs are like guardian angels.” I think many people would agree, but can you explain why you think so?

  I think so because I’ve experienced it myself. I was born into a large family—there were eight children when all was said and done, but even before I was born, my parents had a menagerie of animals, one of which in particular holds a special place in my heart. Chief was our yellow Lab mixed breed. He was part of our family from the beginning. Wherever we kids went, Chief followed, and more often than not, he led the way. He played with us in the river behind our house, chased after us as we rode our bikes around town, and tramped through our neighborhood with us all summer long. (I don’t think there were any leash laws back then, and if there were, we never abided by them. I don’t ever remember our parents using a leash, or a fence.) At dinnertime, my father would whistle for us kids to come home, and we would pour out of the trees in the woods behind our house, or the backs of our neighbors’ yards, and come running home. To this day, I can see Chief, running down the center of our street to meet us in the driveway and head in with us to dinner, like he was one of us kids. He posed with us in family pictures, slept at the end of my brother’s bed each night, sat beside my grandfather in front of the fireplace every evening, and guarded whatever newborn baby came into the house by sleeping next to the bassinette. When it was time to put him down, my father took him to the vet three times. Each time my father took him, Chief rallied. He stood up and ran around the room, and my father couldn’t do it. It went on like that three times, and so by the last time, we all expected my father to come home with Chief. We never really believed Chief would die, that he would leave us. But he did. We wept and carried on as if we had lost a sibling. And in many ways, Chief had been one. He looked out for us. We each had a story about how Chief looked out for us and loved us unconditionally. In so many ways, he taught me about unconditional love. He never asked for anything in return. He gave us rides on his back, he let us dress him up, he ate our vegetables and my mother’s shoe-leather corned beef (blech) when we didn’t want to. He greeted us every day as we got off the bus. We had other dogs after him, and each one taught us something new. By the time my daughter was born, my parents had a black Lab named Clancy. Clancy slept beside my daughter in her little pumpkin carrier and guarded her every day. He went on walks with us and let her hug him, climb on him, and play with him. To this day, my daughter sleeps with a stuffed animal named Clancy, who she swears carries the soul of her beloved Clancy, who passed away several years ago.