Angel Baby (Heaven Can Wait)

by Laura Marie Altom

  Money in his pockets, a healthy baby and a beautiful woman in his arms—hot damn, did life get any better?

  Yes, actually. His life would officially become perfect the day he slipped his ring on Angel’s finger.

  “Come here, you two,” he said to Angel and Katie, pulling them both close. He kissed the baby on her sweet-smelling forehead, then his soon-to-be-wife full on her lips. She tasted of the lemon meringue pie they’d shared on the way home. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  “Actually, no,” she said, that smile he so loved playing about her full lips. “Tell me again. It’s something I can never hear enough.”

  Lifting her by her waist, spinning her and Katie round and round, he said, “I love you, I love you, I—”

  “Jonah!” she shrieked. “Put us down. You’ll hurt yourself and the baby.”

  “Nah, I’m too happy to be hurt.”

  “Me, too.”

  Both breathless, they kissed some more, swaying beneath the kitchen light’s hundred watt glare to the silent music playing in their hearts.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  For once Geneva didn’t bother swiping at the tears that weren’t supposed to be falling. The sight of Jonah, Katie and Angel laughing and loving struck a chord deep in her long frozen soul.

  Until just now she’d never even truly believed in love. But watching those two, seeing the positive physical manifestations their love had brought about, how could she not believe?

  Love really does make the world go round and, for once, she felt as if she was on the receiving end. Now she understood that old saying, ‘It’s better to give than to receive’. Because, essentially, she’d given Blondie to Jonah and Katie.

  Oh, sure, at first she’d been a little shaky on the idea, but now that all her plans were finally coming to fruition, and their wedding was in sight, she would soon be on the express train to Heaven.

  Even Teach himself couldn’t stop that!

  “I like your style,” Elvis said, creeping up behind her dressed in white leather sprinkled with a rainbow of rhinestones. “Those two look great together.”

  “Thanks.” Geneva preened. “Speaking of looking great… Super outfit.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you very much.”

  After they laughed a little more, flirted a little more, and Geneva pinched what was left of herself over the realization that she was starting to have a thing for the King, he asked, “Ready for another song?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  He snapped his thumb and forefinger and bam—she sank into a scandalously rich lounge chair upholstered in purple faux fur.

  A low stage appeared beneath Elvis’s feet, and omnipresent lights made the rhinestones on his suit glitter so brightly she wished she had shades. But then the light softened and a ghostly drummer appeared, tapping out a catchy beat on a high-hat. And then Elvis was crooning the sweetest tune yet, A Pocket Full of Rainbows, making Geneva feel as if she had a destiny full of them.

  Yep, this song proved she was finally Heaven-bound. And after all Teach’s preaching, look how easy it’d been.

  Easy breezy. Easy as pie.

  As Elvis launched into a beautiful chorus, she laughed for the pure joy of being alive… Er, rather, dead. Regardless of the cosmic state she was in, she was happy.

  “Jonah,” she whispered, “I have to agree with you. Though we’ve gone our separate ways, your life and even my death are, for once, looking good.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Thursday night, Angel nursed Lizzy, then tucked her in for a nice long snooze. Jonah was downstairs nuking the burgers they’d brought home and tackling breakfast dishes they hadn’t had time to wash earlier.

  Angel loved the positive changes the diner’s increased traffic had made in Jonah’s mood. She loved performing for his customers and, especially, spending so much time with him during the day but, for all of that pleasure, she could already tell it was going to be tough keeping up the pace.

  Jonah knocked on Lizzy’s open bedroom door. “This a private party?”

  “Sure is,” Angel said from alongside the crib, gazing up at him with more love in her heart than she’d ever thought possible. “Good thing I put you on the exclusive guest list.”

  A sharp pain nipped Angel’s temple.

  “Look, lady, I know you’re a big-time star and all but, for the last time, you’re not on the list. Get a clue. The club’s owner doesn’t want you here. Says you’re trouble.”

  Swigging off the pint of cheap vodka she’d had her limo driver pick up on the ride over, she waved the bouncer away. “Now, I can see why he used to think that. But that’s all changed. See?” She flashed him her sexiest smile. “I’m all better.”

  The six-foot bruiser snorted. “Yeah, lady, you’ve changed all right—for the worse. Beat it.”

  “Angel?”

  She looked up to see Jonah eyeing her oddly. “Where’d you go?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  Yes, you do. Hey, baby, I’m back.

  “Okay, well, I came up here to run an idea by you.”

  “Sure, shoot.” She managed to hide her face and, she hoped, her pounding pulse, by tidying the lower shelf of the changing table. “No matter how many times I straighten these diapers, they always tip over.”

  “Leave ’em.” He drew her up and into his arms. “Come on, let’s head downstairs. I want to talk.”

  Seated at the kitchen table, their burgers and fries transferred from foil wrap to paper plates, Jonah finished his latest bite, then said, “You know how much folks seem to love your singing?”

  “Yeah.” And she loved performing, which was why she didn’t understand why that scary voice was back in her head.

  Why now? Just when everything was going so great?

  “Well, I was thinking, you can’t keep up this pace forever.” He cupped his hand to her cheek. “I can already tell it’s taking a toll.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “I know, but you’ve got to be tired.”

  “Really, I feel fine—especially since you rehired Chevis, and Precious has been coming in after school.”

  He beamed. “Interesting you should mention Precious. Has Pauline told you yet about her beauty queen aspirations?”

  Angel snatched a fry. “I remember hearing something about the Miss Ed’s Tire and Transmission competition. She wanted to know if you’d sponsor her.” She looked down. “Seeing how we’ve had all this new business, I kind of told her that, in exchange for really good seats at the pageant, we’d cover her entry fee.”

  “How much is it?”

  “A hundred bucks—but that includes a cool trophy—win or lose. And free lifetime tire balancing. She’s young—that could end up being worth a bundle.”

  Jonah grinned. “I’m happy to be part of such a grand mission—and this’ll be good, because my idea is that, seeing how folks around here are loving this serenading bit, how about asking Precious to cut back on her waitressing duties and start singing?”

  “That’s a great idea.” She bounded from her seat to wrap him in a hug.

  “Really? You think it’ll work?

  “Absolutely. This’ll be great exposure. I remember starting out small, then—”

  “Whoa.” He brushed fallen sweeps of hair back from her eyes. “What do you mean, you remember?”

  She released a half-hearted giggle. “I guess I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “What do you remember? Have you sung like this before?”

  “I don’t know.” Massaging her temples, she slid off his lap. “You tell me.”

  He shook his head. “Oh no, doesn’t work that way. The doctor said you have to remember on your own or it doesn’t count.”

  “The doctor says!” she all but shrieked, grabbing a coffee cup from the counter and pitching it into the porcelain sink, where it shattered in a dozen pieces. “I’m getting goddamned sick of always hearing what the
doctor says. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Why won’t anyone believe me?” Surveying the damage, she froze, her hand flying to her mouth, then she scurried into action, picking up the broken shards.

  By the time Jonah reached her, her hands were crisscrossed with tiny cuts and she’d dripped blood onto the counter, her pale yellow sundress, the floor, her face and hair.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me. One minute I was fine, the next…”

  “It’s okay.” He grabbed two clean dish towels from the drawer beside the refrigerator, then wrapped her hands with them. When she had one green mitt with cows and a blue one with geese, he tucked her hands against his chest and enveloped her in a hug. “You scared me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. We all have our moments. Come on.” He took her by the goose hand, led her out of the kitchen and turned out the lights. He led her up the stairs and into the hall bathroom. Still holding her, he sat on the edge of the claw-foot tub and turned on the taps, adjusting the temperature so that it wasn’t too cold or too hot, but just right.

  He kissed her.

  Nothing heavy, nothing overtly sexual.

  Just a simple kiss. A Hi-I’m-here-for-you-if-you-need-me kiss.

  Next, he unfastened the white daisy-shaped buttons on her dress all the way to her waist, then he slipped the garment from her shoulders, grazing it past her hips and letting it whisper to the floor. She wore her nursing bra and he reached behind her to unfasten that, too. He fumbled and she tried reaching around to help him, but her mitts interfered, so he shooed her away and she just stared at him, her gaze shimmering with unshed tears.

  Her breasts were beautiful, heavy orbs, their nipples large and dark pomegranate red. He hooked his thumbs into her panties, sliding them down, down, easing her left leg up and out, then her right.

  She stood before him naked, unashamed, arms at her side.

  “Get in,” he said, voice husky with words he didn’t begin to know how to say.

  He helped her into the tub and when she’d comfortably reclined with the water steaming and still rising, he stripped, too. Jerked his T-shirt over his head, kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his fly and dragged down his jeans and boxers, tamping them into an untidy pile.

  When she eyed him with her aquamarine pools, he said, “Scoot.”

  And she did.

  He stepped in behind her, easing her buttocks between his thighs, easing her back against his chest, the crown of her head into the arch of his throat. With his right big toe, he turned the faucets off, then kneaded her tight shoulders until her breathing slowed and she’d gone limp in his arms.

  Only with his Angel asleep did Jonah succumb to sleep himself, deliberately blocking out her remembrances, right along with the violence those remembrances had bred.

  There’d be time enough in the morning for analyzing.

  Right now all he wanted was sleep. Wonderful sleep.

  “You mean it?” Precious asked Friday after school. “I can practice my pageant songs right here in the diner?”

  “Yep.” Jonah got a kick out of seeing the teen jazzed for once.

  “You’ll pay me and everything?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “This is so cool. I can’t wait to tell Mom.”

  “She already knows. I ran this by her first.”

  “Oh, well, sure. Then just wait till I tell Heather.” Heather was Sam’s niece and Precious’s best friend from the Blue Moon High School dance team. “Can I call now?”

  Seeing how the diner was in the lull between the lunch and supper crowds, Jonah waved her back to the office, where Angel nursed Katie.

  The bell over the diner’s front door jingled when Sam walked in.

  Tension still ran thick between them, so Jonah was surprised to see his friend. Surprised, and instantly nauseous. Was he here with news about Angel?

  “Jonah…” The police chief nodded.

  “Sam.”

  He mounted a counter stool. Removed his hat, parking it on the stool beside him. “Heard you’ve been doin’ bang-up business around here.”

  “It’s been okay.” Jonah swiped at the counter with a wet cloth.

  “I hear more than okay. I hear you’ve had so much business you’ve even had to rehire Chevis.”

  “True.”

  “I’m happy for you,” Sam said. “No one deserves a piece of good luck more than you.”

  Jonah froze, eying the man he’d done everything with, from fishing for bass to chasing after pretty girls. “You mean that?”

  “You know me better than to think I go off spouting things I don’t mean.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Jonah leaned closer. “Now that pleasantries are out of the way, why are you here? Ready to blow me out of the water?”

  “Whoa.” Hands in the air, Sam leaned back. “Put your gun back in its holster there, Tex. I still don’t know any more about Angel than I did the first day you called.”

  “How’s that possible?”

  “You think that’s not a question I haven’t asked myself twenty times a day since she got here?”

  “Sorry.”

  Sam leaned closer. “I’m on your side, pal.”

  “What about you thinking she’s some psychotic, kidnapping ax murderer? Or, wait—guess ’cause of that tattoo she used a hatchet?”

  Sam winced. “Forgive me for that. I had to at least check. It’s the cop in me. Hell, maybe Angel is bad news, but at least if you go down, you’ll go down happy.”

  His friend’s lame joke failed to make Jonah smile. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Double cheeseburger, onion rings and a chocolate malt—heavy on the malt.”

  Jonah tucked his order pencil behind his ear and whistled. “Boy Mayor know you’re on a bender?”

  Sam laughed. “Funny you should mention the little pissant. He’s the real reason I stopped by.”

  “Mmm…” Angel leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “This was a great idea your mom had about setting up a picnic table back here.” Back here being the grassy area behind the diner.

  From there, the White River was just a stone’s throw beyond the parking area. Beyond that, the railroad track that brought in coal to power stations on the other side of the state. At this time in the afternoon the tracks were silent, as was the rest of the world, aside from chatty birds and the soft rustle of new leaves on the maples, red buds and century-old oaks. The normally moody river had settled into a glassy flow, with sunbeams spotlighting dust motes dancing above the water.

  Angel stretched, luxuriating in this oasis in her busy day.

  Precious winced. “Actually, Mom isn’t the one who did most of the talking. That would’ve been—” The teen fell silent.

  “Who?” Angel asked, shading her eyes from the sun before checking on Lizzy, who was content on a blanket beneath the shade of a dogwood and making buzzing noises while checking out her toes.

  “No one. I forgot what I was going to say.”

  “You were talking about your mom, and her working as a tag team with someone else to convince Jonah to—”

  “I’m going back inside to try Heather again. I’ll bet she’s done talking to her boyfriend by now.”

  “Precious, wait. I—” Too late. The teen had already flounced through the creaky screen door.

  Angel frowned. Just one more incident to file away in her ever growing Twilight Zone drawer.

  The door creaked open, and Angel glanced that way to see Jonah strolling into the sun. Just looking at him stole her breath. How handsome and strong he looked, with his broad shoulders, thick dark hair and dreamy walnut-shaded eyes that she regularly lost herself in. He made her feel not just safe but adored.

  “Hey, handsome,” she called out, too lazy to get up from her seat, where she leaned against the picnic table’s top.

  “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?”

  “Fi
ne. Why?”

  He shrugged, taking the seat beside her. “Things have been so hectic, we never have had a chance to go over what happened last night.”

  She glanced at her bandaged hands. “Do we need to?”

  “You tell me…” He glanced her way. “Just thought you might. Seems like I read in a magazine that women like to talk.”

  “We do, but not all the time.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” They stayed quiet for a long while, staring at the river, at the lacy leaf shadows cast by golden afternoon sun. Jonah broke the silence with, “You’ll never guess who was just in.”

  “Santa?”

  “Little early.”

  “Easter Bunny?”

  “Too late. And his gut and ears aren’t quite as big.”

  “Ooh…” She cast him a grin. “Must be Sam.”

  Jonah chuckled. “Sure he’d be thrilled to know how easily recognizable he is.”

  “What’d he want?”

  “To apologize.”

  “That’s long overdue.”

  “And to run a theory by me.”

  She groaned, arched her face to catch more sun. “It’s such a gorgeous day. Do you really want to ruin it?”

  Trailing his index finger along her throat, then her collar bone, grew Jonah an instant erection. Shifting to ease pressure on his fly, he asked, “How do you even know whether this theory is good or bad?”

  She shot him a look. “If it originated from Super Cop—it’s bad.”

  “Okay, so it’s bad. You know all these fires?”

  “Kind of hard to forget when a stiff breeze still blows ash this way.”

  “He’s wondering if the mayor could be behind them.”

  “What?” She sat up straight. “I know you guys aren’t fond of him, but—”

  “I know. Out there, isn’t it?”

  “And then some. Did you tell him he’s just as wrong about that as he was about me being a closet criminal?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three