Daddy's Angel

by Annette Broadrick

  The sofa in the living room had lost its sagging appearance, and new throw pillows had added bright color to the room.

  Whenever he commented on some change, Noelle made light of her efforts, so he hadn’t bothered to mention that his clothes had never looked brighter or cleaner. He either found them neatly folded in his drawers or hanging with precision and precise pleats in his closet.

  Bret stepped up on the back porch and let himself into the kitchen. As usual, the room was spotless and gleaming, but he could still smell the savory remains of supper. She’d set large helpings aside, no doubt for him, and he intended to eat every bite as soon as he washed up.

  He paused in the hallway because he heard Noelle’s voice. It sounded as though she was in the middle of one of her stirring sagas. Without giving his actions much thought, Bret sank onto the bottom step of the stairway to listen.

  “…so when the train started up the steep grade the engine had trouble pulling all that weight up the hill, which meant the train was forced to go slower and slower,” she was saying.

  “I know, I know,” Sally interrupted, obviously excited. “That’s how that mean ol’ robber could jump on, isn’t it? He didn’t have to make the driver—”

  “The engineer—” Chris interjected smoothly.

  “Yeah—the engineer—slow down, ’cause he could get on without anybody noticing.”

  “But wouldn’t one of the train guards see him?” Brenda asked.

  “Maybe he made himself invisible,” Travis suggested gravely.

  “Oh, Travis,” Sally began, “People can’t—”

  “Shh! Let Noelle go on,” Brenda snapped.

  Silence reigned for a telling moment before Noelle continued.

  “The robber knew exactly where the guards were stationed. He waited until the perfect moment to leave the boulders he’d used for cover and raced toward the train. He leaped for the train and grabbed on to one of the metal steps that led to the top of the baggage car. He scrambled to get his feet on another one so that he could—”

  “Are you trying to glamorize the profession of train robbery, by any chance?” Bret interrupted from where he now stood, leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest.

  “Daddy, you’re home!” Sally announced.

  “Hey, Dad, did you see Freda?” Chris asked.

  “Dad, Noelle said you might take us shopping tomorrow,” Brenda said, catching him off guard. How had Noelle known that he’d considered going this year? Brenda was still talking. “I told her that you usually had Roy or Freda take us but she said to ask you, anyway. Will you?”

  Travis grabbed him around the knees and said, “Don’t you want to hear about what happened to the train robber?”

  He looked over the children’s heads to where Noelle sat in the middle of the sofa. The children had been clustered around her, listening intently. A small fire danced in the fireplace, giving off a rosy glow.

  The most surprising addition was Rex stretched out asleep in front of the fire while Mischief sat nearby, ignoring his presence while she fastidiously groomed herself.

  He’d found a very domestic scene, one that was rarely enacted in this house. Somehow this woman had managed to captivate all four of the children with her tale, a tough job with such a wide range of ages.

  “How was the last day of school?” he asked, hoping to buy himself some time before facing all their questions.

  Brenda beamed. “Oh, Dad, I aced my test this morning. You know, I didn’t really understand the theory behind the equations. I felt like such a dunce because the teacher had explained it over and over, but somehow it just didn’t make sense to me. When I showed Noelle my homework she immediately saw where I was confused.” Brenda glanced at Noelle. “Somehow she explained it in a way that made the whole thing seem so simple. I was trying to make something hard out of it!” She laughed. “Even the teacher was surprised when he saw my test score.”

  Sally interrupted. “Since there’s no school tomorrow, can we go to town and do some Christmas shopping?” she asked, her eyes bright. “I’ve had some great ideas for gifts lately. Freda isn’t here to take us. Don’t you want to?” She took his hand and looked up at him with soulful eyes, filled with pleading. “It’ll be fun, Daddy. You’ll have a good time, really you will. Can we go?”

  If this child did not find a lucrative calling on either stage or screen he would be very much surprised. The look, the tone, the body language—she could give lessons.

  Bret stared down at his youngest daughter and sighed. First Freda, then Noelle, now this. He knew when he was beaten. “All right, gang. I’ll take you shopping.”

  He and Patti used to go to Austin each year. He couldn’t face going to the same stores, doing the same things they used to do together. However, there were other places to go, places that didn’t hold painful memories.

  “Why don’t we drive in to San Antonio tomorrow and make a day of it?”

  “San Antonio!”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, boy!”

  “Yippee!”

  With everybody talking at once he didn’t try to respond except to the little guy who had him by the knees. He glanced down at Travis. “Do you want to go to San Antonio?”

  “Uh-huh. Will I get to see Santa?”

  “More than likely,” Bret replied, remembering when the older children had been young enough to be excited by the thought of seeing Santa Claus.

  “Good, ’cause I gotta talk to him,” Travis said, sounding very serious.

  Bret knelt down beside his youngest. “You do?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do you plan on telling him what you want for Christmas?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”

  “But you can tell Santa?”

  “Course! How else is he gonna know?”

  “Good point.”

  Noelle came over to them and, as though she’d been doing it for years, brushed a wisp of Bret’s hair off his forehead. “You look tired,” she said in a soothing voice. “Have you eaten?”

  He jerked his head away from her as though she’d burned him with her touch, and straightened from his kneeling position beside Travis. “I’ll eat in a few minutes.”

  She clasped her hands behind her like a small child whose fingers had been slapped, but she didn’t drop her gaze. “I’ll warm supper for you.”

  He turned away and started up the stairs. Without looking around he spoke over his shoulder, “Don’t bother. I’m sure it’s fine the way it is.”

  Bret reached his room and closed the door before leaning heavily against it. What was wrong with him! She’d merely brushed her fingers against him and he’d felt a charge of electricity shoot all through his body, as though he’d touched a hot-wired fence!

  He was acting like a fool—a lovesick fool who’d never been around an attractive woman before.

  He’d better eat and get to bed early tonight. He’d need every ounce of energy he could muster tomorrow to deal with the shopping expedition.

  After washing up, he returned downstairs. When he walked into the kitchen his place was set, fresh coffee scented the air and Noelle waited to fill a plate for him.

  “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me,” he began, politely.

  “It was no trouble,” she replied, equally polite.

  Uncomfortable with the need to apologize, he managed to blurt out, “Look, I didn’t mean to be rude earlier. You just startled me, that’s all.”

  She clasped her hands in front of her and gave a brief nod. “I understand. Some people don’t like to be touched. It won’t happen again.”

  He sat down and within moments she set a full plate of steaming food in front of him. “It isn’t that I mind being touched, exactly.…” he said slowly, searching for words.

  “It’s me, isn’t it?”

  She’d sat down across from him and wat
ched him with those mesmerizing blue eyes of hers.

  He sighed. “You’ve gotta admit this is an unusual situation.”

  Her grin was full of mischief. “It certainly is!”

  He relaxed a little, now that he realized she wasn’t going to take offense. One bite of food told him that as usual, she’d prepared a heavenly meal. He gave up all pretense of conversation and applied his entire attention to the meal in front of him until his plate was clean and he was sipping a fresh cup of coffee.

  “There is one thing I’d like to caution you about,” he began in a mellow tone, feeling immeasurably better now that he had a full stomach.

  Her eyes met his gaze calmly and she waited to hear what he had to say, a personality trait he’d come to recognize in her. She never appeared defensive or unsure of herself. He couldn’t remember ever having known anyone who seemed as comfortable with herself as Noelle. Even if he was going to reprimand her—which in this case came close to what he had in mind—she didn’t appear anxious or disturbed about what he might say.

  “I couldn’t help but hear you telling the kids about that train robber earlier. You were making him out to be some kind of hero, eluding the guards and everything.”

  “Oh, he was far from a hero. He was a very stubborn individual, determined to ignore any helpful advice about his choice of livelihood.”

  He smiled at her prim tone of voice. “You talk like you knew him.”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Except that people don’t go jumping on Amtrak and attempting to rob the baggage cars.”

  Thoughtfully, she nodded. “That’s true.”

  “You’ve got a rich imagination, you know. Have you ever thought about writing some of your tales down? People might enjoy reading about some of these characters you’ve been talking about. But you’d have to make it plain that they aren’t real people. You’d also have to explain how good generally triumphs over evil, no matter how glamorous the bad guys seem to be at times.”

  Her smile sparkled and lights seemed to dance in her eyes. “So you understand that, do you? That’s wonderful.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, really. I guess I was thinking out loud. If you had let me finish my story, I would have told the children what happened to the bank robber.”

  “He got caught and ended up in jail?”

  She shook her head. “Worse. He didn’t get caught and he spent his life running, never being able to trust anyone, never being able to have friends or loved ones, or a family. Never learning how to live.” She sighed. “It was a very sad life. Such a waste…especially since it didn’t have to turn out that way.”

  “Was this some movie you once saw?”

  She glanced at him in surprise. “Oh, no. I mean, I heard about him from members of my family.”

  “Oh.”

  She straightened, and placed her hands on the table. “About tomorrow,” she reminded him.

  He rolled his eyes. “How could I forget. I’ve taken advantage of Freda’s and Roy’s generosity enough. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t realize that sooner.”

  “Don’t you ever take the children Christmas shopping?”

  “Not if I can help it and I’ve generally managed to be unavailable each year. Talking to Freda today helped me see how selfish I’ve been with my time.”

  “The children were telling me about their visit with her. She sounds like a warm and caring person.”

  “Yes, she is. She’s been a good friend to me through everything.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He shifted in his chair. “The truth is, this is always a tough time of year for me. Patti always looked forward to Christmas…decorating the house…planning all sorts of gifts…baking…teaching the children all the time-honored stories. Once she was gone, all the joy left.”

  “I wonder why? The season is all about experiencing the joy of love and fellowship. She left so much that could remind you of her and her love. The children have shared with me so many wonderful things they remember about their mother. She’s very real to them and always will be. She left you a legacy of love, you know. But you have to claim it before you can fully experience it.”

  He stared at her for an interminable amount of time before he asked, “How old are you?”

  She blinked. “What possible difference does that make?”

  “Because some of the things you say surprise me, that’s all. It’s as though you’ve lived a long life filled with all kinds of experiences and from those experiences you’ve drawn some fairly profound insights. But you’re too young to have experienced very much.”

  “I don’t think of age very much. I suppose I consider it more of an attitude rather than a fixed number.”

  “An attitude, huh? Then I feel about eighty years old today, too old for all this exuberance and enthusiasm.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But I want my kids to be happy and I’ll do whatever I can to help make this a fun time for them.”

  “You’re a very loving father, Bret. You’ve done a great job with your children.”

  He could actually feel his ears burning with embarrassment. “I make all kinds of mistakes with them every day.”

  “So? Don’t you think they need to see that fathers don’t have to be perfect? You also show them that each of them is very important to you. You aren’t afraid to show your love for them. You’re also willing to admit your mistakes when you make them. How can they not find you endearing?”

  “They need more than I can give them, though. They need their mother.”

  “I believe they’ve come to terms with her loss better than you have, Bret. They’re getting on with their lives while you’re still looking back, wishing for what was rather than accepting what is.”

  “Maybe so. Maybe I don’t know how to get on with my life.”

  “That’s because you haven’t tried. You need to get out more. You need to socialize, find some nice woman to date, enjoy being—”

  “There! You’re doing it again!”

  She looked startled. “Doing what?”

  “Talking like you’re some old woman. I don’t—”

  “Dad?”

  Bret glanced up at Chris who’d just come in the back door.

  “Yes, son?”

  “Roy was just telling me that he’s planning to go shopping tomorrow, too. Would it be all right with you if the girls and I went with him? He said he’d take us to San Antonio and we could meet you all there later.”

  Bret smiled at his oldest son. “Are you saying that you don’t want to see Santa this year, Chris?”

  Chris laughed. “Well, it won’t break my heart if I miss standing in line for hours like we had to do last year. Besides, Roy lets us shop on our own so our gifts are a surprise to everybody.”

  “And you think I’ll insist on tagging along behind you, is that it?”

  Chris looked startled, then concerned. He walked over to the table and stopped beside his dad. “I guess I wasn’t thinking, was I? Does it sound like we don’t want you to go? It isn’t that at all! It’s just that we’ve kinda set up a routine with Roy, that’s all. But, hey. It’s no problem. I think it’s great you’ve volunteered to take us. We can all go in together and make a day of it. It will be just like old—” He paused, then swallowed and looked away.

  “I like your idea just fine, son. You and the girls go with Roy. Noelle and I will take Travis with us and we’ll meet you at a designated place and time.”

  Chris’s eyes met Bret’s. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “I’m positive.” He didn’t drop his gaze.

  Chris gave a sigh of relief. “That’s great, Dad. I know we’ll have a good time tomorrow. Having you there will make it even more special.”

  The room seemed to fill with silence after Chris went upstairs. Bret wasn’t sure what to do or say. Noelle quietly gathered his dishes and washed them, then began putting them away.

  “I hadn’t realized how protective the ch
ildren have been of my feelings,” Bret finally said.

  “They love you very much,” Noelle replied, standing on tiptoe to put one of the serving bowls away, her back to him.

  “It’s bad enough that they had to lose their mother without worrying about the remaining parent, as well. That’s a lot to push off on a child.”

  “Children are strong. Otherwise they’d never survive.”

  Bret slid down into his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Patti used to say that every child was born with at least one guardian angel making certain they would be safe.”

  “You don’t believe that?”

  He gave her a wistful smile. “Wouldn’t it be a great world if that were true? Babies wouldn’t be born addicted to whatever their mothers’ choice of drug was…they wouldn’t be born with physical defects…they wouldn’t be born in parts of the world where they’ll probably starve to death before they reach school age.”

  “You think that guardian angels could prevent all of that?”

  He raised his brows. “Don’t you?”

  “Not all angels are capable of performing those kinds of miracles. I like to think that the angels guard those little babies as much as they are able, comforting them, helping them to feel safe and loved, preparing them for a better place, regardless of what eventually happens to them.”

  “I’d like to believe that, too,” Bret admitted. “I can scarcely remember those first months after Patti died, but somehow Travis managed to survive anyway. I must have cared for him and loved him, but I don’t remember much of it. It’s almost like I was in some kind of fog, or a bad dream.”

  “It’s time to wake up, Bret.”

  He glanced up and saw that she was standing beside him. He gave her a lopsided smile and obeying an impulse, snaked his arm around her and pulled her down on his lap. She would have slid down the length of his legs if he hadn’t caught her with his other arm. Before he could quite believe what he’d done, Bret discovered he had one arm wrapped around Noelle’s hips, the other around her waist, and she was lying along his chest and shoulder.

  Slowly he straightened in the chair, keeping a firm grasp on the woman in his arms. She felt good there. Very good. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt alive.