Angel Baby (Heaven Can Wait)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “I said I’ll handle it.” He slammed his fork to his plate harder than planned.

  Her former serene expression faded.

  “Sorry.” He cupped his hand over hers. “It’s just, well, the insurance agency is right down the street from the diner. No trouble at all.”

  With her cloth napkin, she dabbed the corners of her lips. “Guess that’s settled, then.”

  “Right.”

  After a few minutes of awkward silence, she asked, “Did you get enough to eat?”

  “If I ate anymore, I’d pop.”

  “Good.” She reddened. “I mean, not that you’d pop, but—”

  “I know.”

  Had he done this?

  Just like their day in Little Rock, he’d taken what’d been perfectly cozy conversation and reduced it to stilted chitchat.

  “I’ll clear the table,” she said.

  “Let me.”

  “No way, Jonah. You’ve worked hard all day.”

  “So have you.” He gestured to the fresh kitchen walls. “Come on, please. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” While he cleared, she fidgeted with her hands. “Guess I should check on Lizzy.”

  “She’s fine. Tell me more about your day.” He’d asked for the purely selfish reason of wanting to spend more time with her, but when she smiled, he decided to ask touchy-feely questions more often.

  After a night of conversation and fun and more than a little yearning to be close to her husband not just emotionally, but in every way a man and his wife should be, Angel had hoped she wouldn’t wind up where she was now—preparing for another long night alone.

  She’d just turned off her bedroom lights when a rap sounded on the door.

  Heart pounding, she licked her lips before saying, “Come in.”

  Was this it? Was her husband finally ready to make love?

  “Hey…” Jonah leaned through the partially open door. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No.” Please, let him at least kiss me.

  “Good. Well, I won’t keep you, just thought with this heat and all you might need this.” He strolled the rest of the way in and the hundred watts spilling from the hall silhouetted a box fan. “Mind if I turn on the lights?

  “Go ahead.” She sat up in bed. Would he notice she wore the only tasteful item in her nightie drawer, an ivory spaghetti strap satin slip? She told herself she’d worn it to counteract the unseasonably warm temperature, but really? She’d worn it for Jonah, in the hope he’d take one look and ravish her.

  Her eyes took their time adjusting to the sudden glare but, when they did, she saw her husband hadn’t budged from the door. Was her sexy gown working? Her breasts swelled with achy awareness and, much lower, her panties grew damp with need.

  “Thought you might need this…” He wagged the fan’s cord.

  “You already said that.”

  “Sorry.” He looked away, setting the fan on the dresser facing the bed before tugging the piece of furniture out from the wall. “In this old house,” he said, “you never can find an outlet where you need one.”

  “I’ll be all right without the fan.”

  “No, I’m sure there’s an outlet back here somewhere.” He went down on one knee, giving her a mouthwatering view of his denim-clad behind and broad shoulders. He wore no shirt, and the farmer’s tan around his neck and biceps didn’t detract from the hard muscles rippling across his back. She knew full well he didn’t have time to work out, which meant these muscles were earned the hard way. Lifting boxes of canned goods and carrying loaded trays.

  She closed her eyes and, for a split second, her mind’s eye flashed on that image she’d had of him her first night back in their house. The one of him taking her standing, back pressed against the bedroom door, her legs hooked about his waist. They’d both glistened with sweat, the room’s heat almost as unbearable as the pent-up heat throbbing between her legs.

  She’d raised her hands above her head, grasping for purchase where there was none, but then he’d been there, pinning her hands at the wrists. Her breasts had thrust against his bare chest, and milk leaked, seeping through her satin gown, lubricating his already sweat-slick chest.

  In and out he’d thrust, and when she’d gasped, he’d covered her mouth with his, probing with his tongue, dizzying her with—

  A sudden breeze pressed the bodice of her satin slip to her breasts while fluttering the short hem.

  Jonah stood. “That’s better.”

  No, that wasn’t better. Nothing will be better till you take me into your arms.

  Tucking her hair behind her ears, she forced a deep breath. “Since it’s actually pleasant in here, why don’t you stay?” She patted the empty space alongside her.

  Hands in his pockets, he gave her a long, hard appraisal. Had she only imagined it, or had his breath caught when his gaze settled on the vee between her legs? Had I known you were coming, love, I would’ve skipped the panties.

  He withdrew his right hand, raked it through his hair before backing toward the door, gesturing with his thumb. “I, ah, really ought to get to bed. Long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

  We could start sharing long nights. Might make your days go a little easier. “Okay, sure. I understand.”

  “Well, then. Goodnight.”

  “…’Night.” Disappointment knotted the back of her throat. Was he no longer physically attracted to her? Or was something more keeping him from their bed?

  Chapter Twenty

  “Isn’t that special?” Geneva sat down hard on her cosmic cloud bench, crossed her arms and pouted.

  Never once—not even when they dated—had Jonah looked at her like he looked at Blondie, let alone spent hours talking like he had over dinner.

  Of course, if she was honest, every time he’d tried talking to her about one of his high-brow subjects, she’d been bored to tears, suggesting they change the topic to something exciting like handcuffs or vibrators—not that good old, disgustingly wholesome Jonah had ever been too keen on either of those good time items. But, hey, Geneva had considered it her duty on behalf of bad girls everywhere to at least get him to give them a try!

  At first, living a leisurely life of watching TV talk shows all day, then having sex all night, hadn’t seemed like a bad gig. But then she’d got bored. She’d tried looking for a job, but Blue Moon wasn’t exactly a hotbed of career choices for an enterprising young woman such as herself.

  The only dye jobs the Kut & Kurl specialized in were platinum blond, jet black, and little old lady blue. She’d always thought she’d have made a damned good tattoo artist, but there wasn’t a tattoo parlor within a hundred miles of the one-horse town. She’d tried a brief stint as a cake decorator for the local IGA, but that had lasted less than a week, once she’d found out she had to be in by five every morning to help make doughnuts.

  Anyway, with the lovebirds finally asleep, Geneva clapped to turn off her cosmic viewing screen.

  Now what? Since there was no sleep needed in Heaven, that left an awful lot of free time. But what was she supposed to do with it?

  Maybe she was working so fast Mr. Big didn’t know what to make of her?

  In fact, maybe she was doing such an awesome job that Mr. Big was having to create a whole new division of Heaven. Maybe he’d call it the Bad Girl Zone? And maybe, instead of those boring old white clouds to float around on, they could have something nice and flashy—something along the lines of the smoking hot wallpaper Blondie had so callously torn down?

  Eyes closed, since she couldn’t technically sleep, she daydreamed herself into a sparkly, silver-clouded Heaven where no other women were allowed—just her and lots and lots of hunky bad boys, wearing nothing but silvery-sparkle thongs.

  Hmm, silvery-sparkle clad buns…

  Now that was her idea of Heaven!

  Chapter Twenty-One

  On Saturday morning, Angel had just sent Jonah off to the diner with a determinedly chipper wave, instead of
the lingering kiss she’d have preferred, when a knock sounded at the front door.

  She opened it to find Esther dressed in her usual overalls but, instead of a T-shirt and sneakers, she’d opted for a frilly floral blouse and pink kitten heels. “Yard sale day.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What? Are ya deaf? I said it’s yard sale day. Grab your purse and the babe and let me show you how it’s done.”

  “Well, I don’t have much money—and what little there is should go to groceries. Besides, I—I really should see about working in the garden. I thought it might be nice to plant a few tomatoes. You know, to help save on food costs.”

  Esther waved her hand. “You and me can put in a garden Monday. No yard sales on Monday.”

  Angel glanced over her shoulder at the flotsam of baby paraphernalia that had a way of gathering on every flat surface of the house. “If I’m not gardening, I should be tidying. The place is a mess.”

  “Tidy-schmidy. No one’ll be over ’cept for me, and I’d rather have your company for my sales. Your lack-of-money could be a problem but, with a little bargaining, I guarantee you a whole new wardrobe for under ten bucks.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Honey, I thought we’d already established the fact that, at my age, I got no time left to kid.” Patting her crown of tight bluish curls, she said, “Come on. I see Jonah left you the truck. You can drive.”

  Ten minutes later, with Lizzy tucked in her baby seat, gnawing on plastic keys, and Esther just to the right of the gear shift, Angel got the truck off to a rollicking start, managing to hit every one of the driveway’s dozen or more potholes before finally careening onto the dirt road.

  “Maybe next time I should drive,” Esther mumbled, clinging her arthritic hands to the dash.

  “Sounds good to me.” Angel glanced her way with a grin. “That way I could sit back and do nothing but side-seat drive.”

  Patting Angel’s right knee, Esther let loose with a full-on belly laugh. “I like you. You and me, we’re gonna get along just fine.”

  By noon Esther had purchased over a dozen picture puzzles—her favorite of which was of a male stripper that, when you pressed your fingers to his tight leather pants, body heat made them vanish. In addition to the puzzles, she’d picked up a scary black wig for her favorite great-great-granddaughter to play dress up in, a set of rusty golf clubs for her least favorite grandson-in-law’s fiftieth birthday, and a box of stubby crayons to melt into candles for her Sunday school class. Esther later admitted she wasn’t sure if this would even work but, for a quarter, she figured it was worth a try.

  As for Angel, she had indeed found an awful lot of pretty dresses for her ten dollars—not that a single one of them fit. But since Jonah had promised she wielded a mean set of crochet hooks, she figured she might as well try her hand at sewing. A few of the dresses were large enough that there’d be fabric left over to make a matching dress for Lizzy.

  The best part of all about the morning, though, wasn’t the items she bought, but the friends she’d made.

  Esther knew everyone—every yard sale hostess, both mailmen making their rounds, curious dogs and even kids selling Kool-Aid and cookies.

  Agreeing to be Esther’s escort for the day bought Angel instant acceptance. And, while every person she met gave her odd glances upon her announcement that she was Jonah’s wife, by the time Esther had finished with her ever bigger, bolder, flashier version of her accident and resulting memory loss, no one batted an eye. If Esther said she was one of them, she was one of them. And that suited Angel just fine.

  “There’s one up on that corner.” Angel pointed to a leaning hot pink garage sale sign, then aimed the truck in that direction. “It says they have lots of toys. Maybe that means puzzles.”

  Esther made a face. “I know that address. House belongs to Callie Cook. Those kids of hers are walking disasters. Can’t hardly keep their wits about ’em, let alone puzzle pieces. Nah, I’m pooped. Take me home.”

  “If you say so.” Angel pulled into a gas station lot to turn the truck around.

  During the twenty-minute drive home, the sun shone brightly into the truck’s cab, warming the interior. For a while, the two of them shared chitchat, but that soon fell into companionable silence. Not too long after, Angel spied Esther nodding off.

  Just before settling into a full-fledged nap, she yawned, then said, “I like you, Angel Whoever-you-are.”

  Patting her newfound friend’s gnarled hand, Angel said, “I like you, too, Esther—even if you can’t remember that my last name’s McBride.”

  Saturday afternoon the diner was so dead that Jonah sent Precious home to help her mom sew on evening gown beads for the Miss Pine Lodge pageant.

  On weekends, Jonah rarely had need for Leon, so he was all by his lonesome behind the counter when Angel walked in, Lizzy held in the crook of one arm, a paper sack in the other.

  “You two are a welcome sight,” he said, truly happy to see them. What a difference a week made. Last Saturday at this time, not only had he been faced with his business going under, but Katie had almost been hospitalized. Now, to look at her, you’d never even know she’d been sick.

  His diner was another matter. Too bad Angel couldn’t do something about that, as well.

  “I ran into Leon’s wife at a yard sale. She gave me these free of charge. Said to bring them down here. That you might crave company.” Angel withdrew a plastic freezer bag from the sack, then bustled behind the counter for a plate, arranging Delilah’s legendary lemon poppy seed muffins in a pretty spiral.

  “Yard sale, huh? Don’t tell me Esther connived you into chauffeuring her all morning.”

  “Actually, it was fun. Besides, she said next time she’ll drive.”

  “Oh, she did, did she? Did she also tell you she had her driver’s license revoked back when I was in sixth grade?”

  Angel laughed. “That’s why she seemed surprised gas was over a dollar a gallon. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted on filling our tank.”

  Though he was annoyed that even the neighbor knew making ends meet was a struggle, he said, “That was nice, but if you all go out again, don’t let her pay.”

  “She said you’d say that. I’m supposed to tell you—and this is a quote, ‘As old as she is, she’ll darn well pay for anything she wants and you can’t stop her’. Oh—and you ‘should quit being stubborn’.”

  He shook his head and sighed. Classic Esther. “Regardless, I appreciate you stopping by—especially, for bringing these.” He unwrapped the muffin’s foil cup, before popping half the treat in his mouth.

  His pretend wife grinned. To Katie she said, “It’s a good thing we came down, Lizzy-babe. Who’d have thought the owner of a diner would be sitting here starving?”

  Jonah’s chuckle echoed off the dozens of empty seats.

  Cinching Katie tighter, Angel said, “Where is everyone?”

  Jonah shrugged. “Probably Mickey D’s. Dairy Queen’s pretty popular too. I’m afraid the new Braum’s biscuits and gravy will put the last nail in my coffin.”

  “Things are that serious?”

  “Look around.” He gestured to the ghosts of customers past. “Most days this is all I see from ten AM on. I used to stay open till eleven, then nine, now eight. Some mornings we still get a crowd when they get tired of McMuffins, but then they go back in the afternoon for those famous fries. When the Braum’s gets built, it’ll be even worse. Hell, even I go by when I’m in Fayetteville. Ice cream. Good, hearty breakfasts— even better burgers and fries for lunch. Even if they are fast food, they get it—really get the concept of serving fast food with country flair.”

  “Sounds like maybe you should apply for one of their managerial positions. I’ll bet they even have health and dental benefits.”

  He held his arms across the counter for Lizzy and Angel passed her to him. Over the past week the three of them had fallen into such a comfortable routine, she knew what he wanted without him
even asking. With his grinning baby snug in his arms, he walked out from behind the counter, trailing his fingers along the cool, gold-speckled laminate top.

  “I celebrated my kindergarten graduation in here,” he said. “Riding my bike without training wheels. My first kiss. So did my dad. You can’t imagine how many memories these walls hold. Sure, I can and probably should run to those advance-hiring people sitting in that trailer down by Braum’s. But as long as I’ve got even a penny in savings, I feel like I owe it to this squirt here to at least try keeping the doors of her legacy open.”

  Beaming a sarcastic smile she hadn’t even known herself capable of his way, Angel saluted his speech with a nice, slow round of applause.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She lowered herself onto one of the counter stools and spun around. “It means that while I fully sympathize with you on how hard it must be watching this place die, I also think it’s high time you got your head out of Nostalgia Land and faced facts. What kind of legacy is Lizzy going to have with her daddy in bankruptcy court? How are you planning on paying for college? Oh—that’s right, with any luck, she’ll have this diner to toil in for the rest of her life.”

  “That’s enough.” Who did this woman think she was? She was a stranger. What gave her the right to stroll in here preaching about what was best for his baby?

  “No. It’s not anywhere near enough.” She hopped off the stool to cup her hand to his cheek.

  He flinched, but she put her hand right back, trailing her perfumed fingers down his neck and then atop Katie’s head, smoothing her downy hair. “I always thought as a parent I would want more than what I have for my child. In a perfect world, I don’t want Lizzy to work as hard as you, cooking and cleaning, unless she wants to. I sure don’t want her spending fourteen-hour days doing it for strangers.”

  “The people who come in here are hardly strangers. They’ve known me and her all our lives.”