Angel in Blue Jeans

by Richard L. Coles

  “But Gina, what about your Christmas? Isn’t that going to upset your plans?”

  “I didn’t really have much in the way of plans. I was going to call in at Mamma’s and Poppa’s to drop off some gifts—I wasn’t going to stop. But I can’t anyway, with Tony. And Uncle Bruno had said to drop by sometime, if I got the chance, but that’s all. Dan, I just want to keep Tony dry.”

  “But you can’t let it ruin your Christmas. Tell you what, why don’t I come over and Tony-sit tomorrow afternoon, and you can go out for a while?”

  “But what about your family? They’ll want to spend time with you.”

  “I know they will, but I’m sure they’ll understand. What-say I come about one o’clock? Mom said she wanted us to have a late Christmas dinner about six. Have you got in anything special for food?”

  “No, not really. To be honest, Dan, I really don’t feel very Christmassy. I guess I’m all Christmassed-out from work, and then all this with Tony on top.”

  “You hang in there tonight. I hope you get a good rest. And I’ll come earlier, say about noon. You’ll be up?”

  “Sure. At least I will. I’ll tell Tony you’re coming—maybe that’ll get him up early.”

  “Okay. See you then. Bye.”

  “Bye, Dan, and thanks.” Gina put the phone down and finished changing. She walked back out to the living room, where Tony had returned to his chair.

  “That was Dana. She’s coming over tomorrow.”

  Gina watched a noticeable change come over Tony. There was a distinct brightening. He adjusted his position in the chair, to a tidier pose, less slummocked. “Oh, is she?”

  “Yes, around noon.”

  Tony nodded his head as he changed the channel on the TV. “The oven should be hot enough now,” he volunteered, and went into the kitchen to put the pizza in.

  Gina wondered at the abrupt change in his manner. This was the first time he had voluntarily done anything like that in all the weeks he had been staying with her.

  It was Christmas Day. Tony sat back in his chair and turned on the television with the remote. He felt good, for once. He could hear Gina and Dana chatting in the background as he searched for the channel with the game on.

  When the doorbell had rung an hour or so ago, he had gone to the door, knowing it would be Dana. There she stood, like a Christmas angel, her bouncy, blonde hair framing her face, with a broad smile and sparkling eyes. He had been speechless and overwhelmed.

  Dana had brought a large box that he helped carry to the table. Out of it came Christmas candies, desserts, cakes, and a little gift each for him and Gina.

  He knew Gina was surprised and touched by the way she thanked and embraced Dana. And he appreciated the warm hug he shared with Dana; it felt so good. They’d had a good time together, consuming some of the food and chatting about things, nothing difficult, nothing to cause tension.

  Now, it seemed, some kind of arrangement had been set up between Gina and Dana. Dana was going to stay with him while Gina went visiting. That was fine by him. He had nobody he wanted to visit—probably nobody wanted him to visit, anyway—and he was quite content to have Dana’s company.

  Gina called out as she left the apartment and closed the door behind her. Tony raised his hand in a form of acknowledgement. He turned as Dana came and sat on the sofa, tucking her legs up on the cushion.

  “You found the game yet?”

  “No, maybe it hasn’t started.”

  “Maybe not. Anything else on?”

  “Do’know.” Tony absently surfed the channels, round once, round twice.

  “Leave it on forty-three till the game starts,” suggested Dana.

  “Okay.” Tony flicked to the Country Music Channel. The music wafted through the room—a Prairie Oyster video.

  He glanced at Dana. She was watching the screen. He turned his gaze back to the screen also. She really does look great, he thought. How could he talk to her? What could he say? She had done so much. He had done so little, had screwed up so badly.

  He knew he had nearly blown it the other night; he knew Gina could have kicked him out, and he deserved it. He felt bad about letting her down, he really did. But Marc and Alain had insisted he go out with them, he couldn’t help it. He knew he’d done the wrong thing as soon as he had the first sip, but it was too late then. He did so want to straighten his life out, but every time he tried, he slipped down again. If only …

  Carrie Underwood’s latest video was on now—he watched closely.

  “You like her?”

  He glanced at Dana. She was grinning at him.

  “Yeah, she’s good.” He felt his colour come up.

  “Good-looking too, eh?” Dana chuckled.

  “Uh-huh,” Tony nodded, smiling sheepishly.

  “I like some of her songs, too. And she’s got quite a following at RMC.”

  “I guess.”

  The song finished. Tony surfed the channels again. No game. He returned to the Country Music Channel.

  “How’s your job, Tone?”

  “Uh? Oh, okay I guess.” He wasn’t really up to talking about it.

  “You go in every day?”

  “Yeah, except Sundays. Just for four hours, though.”

  “But it does give you something to do, and some money.”

  “Yeah, but nearly all of it goes to Gina for rent.” Tony’s voice was down-turning.

  “I know, but that’s only fair—you do have a nice place to live in. It’s lucky, in a way, that when you called Gina for help, her roommate had just left to get herself married. So Gina had a room for you. You know, Tone, your sister really has done a lot to help you.”

  “I know, Dan, and so have you. And I am grateful … it’s just that …”

  “That you have a problem?”

  Tony looked down at the floor. “Yeah, I have a problem.”

  They sat as the music played on.

  “But there is real help out there, if you want it,” said Dana at last.

  Tony watched the screen, not really seeing the images. He knew in his mind, in his heart, that he wanted help, but … it had felt so good for a couple of hours the other night, once again.

  But then he saw Gina’s face in his mind, her gasp of horror as he barfed all over the kitchen floor. He felt a shudder pass through his body as he turned to Dana. “Dan … please, I do need help.”

  Dana stood up and walked over to him. Bending, she lifted his head and kissed his upturned forehead.

  “Then we’ll find the right help for you, this week. But, Tone, you realize, it’s all up to you. You have to make it work.”

  Tony nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Okay, let’s see if the game is on now.”

  Gina turned her car onto the Ferruccio driveway. No matter how much snow was lying around the streets, the Ferruccio driveway was always clear. Her father, Pino, always had at least one company truck equipped in the winter with a snowplow, with an assigned driver, to clear all his staff’s driveways—it saved the company time and money in the long run, he argued.

  Gina picked up the gifts from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car. It was the family home, but she felt unsure, nervous. With some trepidation, she walked up to the door and rang the bell.

  The door opened, and she saw her mother.

  “Merry Christmas, Mamma. I’ve brought you some little gifts. May I come in?”

  Carmella burst into tears, hugging her daughter, pulling her into the house without a word.

  A sound of footsteps, then an explosion of sound. “What you doing here?” shouted Pino. “You not welcome in this house. Go.”

  Gina stood her ground. “Poppa, no. You are being totally unreasonable, and unkind. You are hurting everybody around you, and yourself. This is Christmas, the time for families and giving, and forgiving. I’ve brought you and Mamma and Roberta some small gifts.”

  “So long as you are with that tramp, you are not my family.”

  “Poppa, Tony needs
our love, your love. He needs all the help he can get to carry him through and get out of his mess.”

  “He got himself into the mess; he can get out by himself. He disgraced this family; you disgrace this family when you help him. I do not want to see him or you again. Ferruccio name is a good name. Go.”

  Gina looked at her mother. She saw a sad, downcast face, but to her dismay, Carmella nodded, as in agreement with Pino. Gina realized that her younger sister had joined them at some point—she was crying.

  There’s nothing more I can do here, thought Gina. She turned and left the house.

  “Gina, wait.”

  Gina turned as she reached her car. Roberta was coming down the driveway in her slippers. “Wait, please.”

  They embraced.

  “Gina, it’s like a prison and a morgue combined in there. It’s awful. There’s no happiness, no joy, no smiles. I can’t wait till I can leave. I’m trapped—if I were to come visit with you, Poppa would kick me out. I just don’t understand him. I daren’t stay out here any longer, either.”

  Gina was lost for words; she didn’t know how to respond to this cry for help. She hugged her sister again, and their eyes met.

  “Be strong,” she said, and they parted.

  - 31 -

  What a start to January! Kelly struggled to push the key into the door-lock, which was already covered with a glaze of ice. Her hair was wet. Her boots were slipping on the ice on the step as she at last managed to open the door.

  Hamish the terrier was waiting for her on the inside, eager to go outside. Kelly dumped her bag on the floor, reached for the leash, and put it on the dog, who was already pulling hard.

  Gingerly, she stepped back out onto the ice, but by that time, Hamish’s feet had already slipped out of control down the two steps, to leave him at the bottom, shaking his head in bewilderment. The freezing rain had started in the late morning, about five hours ago, and according to the report Kelly had heard on the car-radio, it was pretty widespread.

  She carefully let herself down the steps, hanging onto the handrail at the side, smiling at the antics of Hamish, whose feet were sliding out from under him at every step he made on the sheer ice that covered the sidewalk. She burst out laughing at the poor dog when he tried to balance on three legs to relieve himself. Miraculously, he eventually managed to do so, and they carefully made their way back into the house.

  Kelly hung up her coat, and tidied her hair in the mirror in the hallway. What a journey. Thank goodness I don’t have to go into the office now for two weeks. This was the week she and Mike were to be married. She was so excited.

  There were so many last minute things to be done in the next three days before the big day, Friday the 9th, her parents’ anniversary. How she wished they were still alive to be here. She wished Mike could have taken the days off too, but his boss had said the workload at this time of year was too much. He had reluctantly agreed to Mike having Friday off for the wedding, and the following week, too, for a honeymoon.

  She walked into the kitchen. The red light on the phone was blinking. She picked it up, punched in the codes, and listened. Mike had left a message. He was going to be late. He had been called out on an emergency; somebody’s furnace had stopped working.

  What a night for that to happen. Poor Mike. But at least this place is warm and snug, she thought as she started to prepare supper. Hamish was snuffling around his dishes.

  “You’ll have to wait, Hamish. Let me put mine on first, then I’ll get you yours.”

  Hamish stood with his head tilted to one side, and gave one small bark.

  “Yes, I knew you’d understand. It won’t be long.”

  Mike didn’t arrive home until nearly ten-thirty, exhausted, and quickly they went to bed. He fell asleep almost at once, but it was a long time before Kelly could subside, listening all the while to the freezing rain pellets lashing against the bedroom window.

  She awoke, yet again. She was so wound up now. What time is it now? She lifted herself up to look at the clock. Nothing. Darkness. Shoot, must be a power failure.

  She got out of bed and felt her way through to the bathroom, flicking the switch as a reflex. Nothing. Ah well, no problem. She ventured over to the window. What a sight! No lights in the parking area. No lights in any of the houses.

  In the faint glow of the night, she could see glistening ice everywhere, with tree branches bowed down unnaturally with loads of ice. Suddenly in the distance, she saw a blue flash. What was that? she thought, suddenly shuddering as the coldness of the room struck her. Quickly, she climbed back into bed and snuggled up to the sleeping Mike.

  She awoke to dim, early morning daylight. As she opened her eyes, there was Mike, half-dressed. “Power’s out.”

  “I know. I was up in the night. It was out then.”

  “Temperature’s dropped a bit in the house. Looks as if the power’s been off about five hours, from the clock in the kitchen.”

  “Ugh. So no coffee, no hot water?”

  “Well, you might get enough warm water from the tank for a quick wash, but not much more. As for coffee, forget it.”

  “Have you looked out? I did in the night, and it looked fantastic. And I saw a blue flash somewhere, don’t know what.”

  “Probably power lines touching and arcing over. Look out now, it’s a real fantasy world, but it’s breaking trees like crazy—branches cracking off over in the Gardens—some of those big, old trees are not looking good. There’s ice coating everything.”

  “Do you have to go to work in this?”

  “You know I do, my love. I’ll probably have to work like crazy today. All kinds of problems will have come up. I’m sure glad that George was kind enough to let you have these next few days off. At least you won’t have to go out in this today.”

  “But I’ve so much to do.” Kelly was out of bed and standing now. Mike came over and held her against him. They kissed. Mike brushed her hair back from her forehead. “I’m supposed to pick up my dress and the accessories today,” she sobbed.

  “But nothing is so important that you have to go out in this. We have everything that is absolutely essential for Friday, just you and me.”

  She pressed against him. “I know, but I don’t want this to spoil our plans.”

  “It won’t. It’ll all be gone in a day or so, don’t you worry.”

  It was a strange light that dimly illuminated the house by noontime. Kelly was becoming increasingly despondent. All her carefully laid plans were unravelling. The spot where Mike’s truck had been parked was almost iced over already. There was still no power, and the house was becoming decidedly cold now. The telephone line was dead, too.

  She ran upstairs to put on a heavier sweater. Walking out of the bedroom, she wandered across into the spare room, whose window faced out to Millerby Lane. She looked out. At least some traffic was moving slowly out on Otterbrook, where they must have salted heavily. A few vehicles had ventured along Millerby, but there were several fallen tree branches partially blocking the lane.

  As she surveyed the scene of destruction from the window, she remembered the little portable radio down in the basement.

  The reports on the radio gave her the broader picture of the extent of the ice storm, as it was now being called. She began to realize how lucky she was, compared to many people out in rural areas.

  Suddenly, a humming sound made Kelly look up. The hall light was on. Yes, the fridge was running again. She jumped up and tried the kitchen light. Yes, we have power back. Great. She felt quite upbeat again. She jumped as the telephone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Kelly, it’s Jane.”

  “Hi, Jane, how long has the phone been up, then? It wasn’t working when I tried it earlier.”

  “About half an hour.”

  “How are you and Trishy coping?”

  “Tucked up in our sleeping bags. But we’re good. How about you?”

  “Mike had to work late last night. I haven’t heard fro
m him today. And the cell-phones might not be working either. I guess we got our power back because some of our lines are underground.”

  “All the houses in the Gardens are still without power, though.”

  “Are they? Gee. Not surprising, I guess, with all the trees—and their power lines are still on poles.”

  “Reason I called was that I figured we might be able to use the Centre as an emergency shelter. I know there’s power there, I can see an outside light on.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’m game to help, if we can get over there without breaking a leg on the ice. Do you think people in need would go there? Have you called Dave?”

  “Yes. He agreed, and said he’ll try to get over there. I cautioned him, knowing he’s still recovering from his heart attack, but he said this is the kind of public service he feels he was made for.”

  “He said that? Wow, some guy. He’s a good man, and true. Look, if you’ll do the phoning around to people, I’ll make my way over to the Centre to help Dave. Gotta find some boots with decent tread first.”

  “Okay. Bye. See you later.”

  Well, thought Kelly, not what I’d planned to do today, but given the situation, I’m more use helping others than sitting here sulking.

  Kelly soon found her good boots, and throwing on her jacket, she gingerly tried her first few steps on the ice outside. It wasn’t too bad, provided she avoided the areas where ice-melt had dripped, or where the ice had gone smooth. There was enough surface graininess in most places that she had enough traction to walk almost normally, if only slowly. It took her a good fifteen minutes to do the usual three-minute walk to the Hennigan Centre.

  Dave Adkins was already there, desperately trying to chip ice away from the doorway so that they could get inside.

  “Hi, Dave, isn’t this awful?”

  “Oh, hi there, Kelly. Yes, it’s the pits. Thanks for coming over. Did Jane call you?”

  “Yes, she did. I think it’s a great idea—that is, if we can get inside!”