“A thingamajig?” Drake asked, looking from Nick to Angela.
“Can I show him, Mom?” Nick asked, already halfway out of his chair.
“Go ahead.” Angela nodded.
Nick raced out of the room and quickly returned with a toy someone had obviously made. A big nail that had been welded to a thin metal plate formed the bottom and stand. On top of that a stick figure man made of bended wire held a piece of curved metal with a small metal ball at each end. The man bobbed back and forth in a never-ending effort to keep his balance.
“Aw, that kind of thingamajig. Drew and I used to have one of those we played with sometimes.” Drake grinned at Nick as the boy set the toy on the counter and returned to his dinner.
After they finished eating, Angela expected Drake to leave. Instead, he gave her a hand with the dishes while Nick did his homework. Then he offered to help her unpack the boxes of Christmas decorations.
“No, you’ve done enough already, Drake. I’m sure you have better things to do than stay here and dig through these dusty boxes with us.” Angela wasn’t sure she could handle spending too much time around Drake and maintain what little bit of sanity she still possessed. He was too handsome, too sweet, too wonderful. Oh, she knew Drake had his flaws, just like anyone, but from her viewpoint, he was an amazing guy.
“I have nothing pressing I need to do this evening and it would be my privilege to help you, if you want me to stay,” Drake said, following Angela into the living room. Half a dozen boxes and plastic storage tubs waited to be opened and the contents explored.
Angela really didn’t want to decorate the house, and the last thing she needed was to spend an additional hour or two with Drake, but she couldn’t say no. Not when Nick practically danced off one foot to the other with anticipation and Drake appeared nearly as excited.
“Go for it,” Angela said, sliding a box toward Drake.
“Yay!” Nick cheered as he opened a box and began removing garlands.
While Nick and Drake draped garlands around doorways and over the fireplace mantel, she unpacked the breakable decorations like an old mason jar that had a winter scene nestled inside it, complete with iridescent glitter for snow.
Angela opened a small box and took a deep breath as a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Suddenly, she was a little girl again, sitting in her Granny’s kitchen, cutting out gingerbread cookies and listening to Andy Williams croon Christmas carols as a record played in the background.
“What’s that scent?” Drake asked, as he knelt on the floor beside where she sat on the couch with the box still on her lap.
“Bayberry. My grandma always made her own candles each year and burned them throughout the season. She…” Angela took a shaky breath, determined to get her spiraling emotions in check.
The holiday scent filled the space around her, making it impossible to think of anything other than her grandmother and how much she missed her. This would be her first Christmas without Granny. The woman had been Angela’s rock her entire life. Now that rock was gone, leaving a big, empty hole in her place.
Unable to stop the tears welling in her eyes, Angela jumped when Drake brushed the salty drops from her cheeks with his thumbs.
“Hey, it’s okay, Angel,” he whispered, glancing over to where Nick danced to a silly Christmas song playing on Angela’s phone and waved a garland around his head. “If you need to cry, cry. I know you miss your granny. It must be hard trying to get through this holiday season without her.”
Angela couldn’t even speak around the lump lodged in her throat. She set the box on her lap aside, jumped to her feet, and ran to her bedroom. She rushed into the bathroom, shut the door, and sat down on the edge of the tub where she gave herself a few minutes to release the grief she’d held in since she returned from Granny’s funeral in January.
When the sobs subsided, she took several cleansing breaths then stood and rinsed her flushed face with cool water. A glance in the mirror assured her she looked even worse than she imagined. She toweled her face dry, reapplied mascara, and even took a minute to take her hair out of the bun at the back of her head and brush through it. She left it down and pinched her cheeks to give them a bit of color. At least she’d taken time to change out of her work clothes when she and Nick arrived home earlier.
She didn’t know why she cared how she looked. Drake probably thought she was a basket case anyway. With one more deep breath, she returned to the living room to find Drake and Nick making a paper chain with wrapping paper she’d stored in a plastic tub.
“Look, Mom! We’re making a countdown chain. Mr. Miller says I get to take one off every day starting tomorrow until Christmas. Isn’t that cool?” Nick asked as he sat on his knees and reached for another strip of paper that Drake had cut.
“That’s great, baby.” Angela sank onto the floor next to Nick and placed a hand on his back.
Drake gave her a questioning look, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Not right now when her heart felt so raw and vulnerable.
When Nick and Drake finished with the paper chain, Drake helped her son drape it across the windowsill by the kitchen table. Together, they washed the glue from their hands while Angela picked up the scissors and leftover strips of paper.
Angela got out bowls and spooned chocolate lava cake from the slow cooker into them. She served the dessert topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
She set a bowl on the table for Nick and poured half a glass full of milk for him. “I know you like chocolate,” she said as she handed Drake a bowl of cake and a spoon.
He took a bite and looked like he might kiss her. Instead he hurriedly took another bite. “I think that might be the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had, but don’t you dare tell my mother I said that.”
Angela laughed as she made two cups of tea, then took a seat at the table. The cake was rich and delicious, just what she needed, just how she imagined Drake’s kisses might taste.
Aggravated with herself and her wayward thoughts about her best friend, she asked Drake how Seth’s grandpa was doing since he’d returned to the ranch after having hip surgery.
“Apparently, Sam ran off one nurse in tears and Seth isn’t fond of her replacement.” Drake shrugged as he spooned another bite of cake. “We’ll see how long it lasts.”
Nick finished his last bite of cake so Angela sent him to get ready for bed. While her rambunctious little boy took a bath, Angela tried to find the words to apologize to Drake for falling apart earlier. Nothing came to mind, so she quietly ate her cake. Drake finished his and drained his cup of tea then carried his dishes to the sink.
Angela scrambled to come up with something to say. “I’m sorry, Drake, about earlier. I didn’t mean to…”
Before she finished her apology, Drake pulled her up into his arms and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, Angel. If you ever need someone just to listen, I’m always here. You know that, right?”
She nodded as tears once again pricked her eyes and robbed her of the ability to speak.
Drake kissed her forehead again then gave her a tight hug. “I’m gonna go, but if you want more help with the decorations or anything at all, just say the word.”
“No, Drake, you’ve done too much as it is,” she whispered, trying her best to hold back her tears. It felt so good, so right, to be in Drake’s arms. To accept the comfort he offered and draw from the deep well of his strength.
Because she never wanted it to end, she hastily pulled away from him. “Thank you for everything, Drake. I really am sorry I…” Her voice broke and she turned away before she started crying again.
“It’s okay, Angel.”
She felt his warmth envelop her as he stepped close behind her and bent his head so his breath caressed her ear. “Anytime you need me, anytime at all, I’ll always be here.”
Eyes closed, she nodded her head. Cold seeped around her when he moved away. She heard him holler at Nick to have a good night before the front do
or opened then clicked shut.
Angela dropped down on the nearest chair and leaned back, distraught. For the sake of her son she had to pull herself together and get her head on straight. Not just because of her grief over losing Granny and the pain of her past, but because Drake Miller had no place in her future. None at all.
Chapter Six
Drake set a basket of folded laundry on his bed then changed out of the slacks and sweater he’d worn to church. He yanked on his cold-weather running gear and dug in the closet for his running shoes.
Every Sunday, he and Drew had lunch with their parents at their home following church services and often spent the afternoon watching football with their dad while doing laundry. Their apartment didn’t have a hook-up for a washer or dryer, and neither of them liked going to the laundromat in town. In trade for letting them do their laundry there, the two brothers often tackled projects their mom wanted done that their dad purposely avoided getting around to completing.
Today had been no different. After eating his mom’s pot roast with carrots, potatoes, and more than his share of hot rolls, buttered corn, and apple cake, he and Drew had hung the outside lights and carried the Christmas tree decorations along with the artificial tree down from the attic.
Since his parents both worked so many hours at the café, they kept their Christmas decorations minimalistic at home, although they went all out at the restaurant.
While their dad hollered at the losing team during the football game, Drake and Drew helped their mom decorate the tree in between loads of laundry.
By mid-afternoon, Drake felt tied in knots. Drew had taken great pleasure in tattling about how Drake had messed things up the previous weekend between Rhett and his beautiful neighbor, Cedar. Rhett had been trying, for reasons no one knew, to keep the fact he was Cedar’s camel-owning neighbor a secret from the woman. Drake and Drew had joined Rhett and Seth at Cedar’s house to hang her lights then stayed for dinner. Without thinking, Drake accidentally blurted out that Rhett owned Lolly. The moment he’d opened his big mouth, he wished he could snatch back the words, but it was too late. Cedar wasn’t speaking to Rhett and Rhett was barely speaking to Drake.
On top of that fiasco, Drew was acting strange about Joy and Drake couldn’t get Angela out of his thoughts for more than five minutes at a time.
The other night when she’d rushed off to cry alone in her room, he’d wanted to go to her, to comfort her. Not because he wanted to deal with a woman’s tears, but because he’d known she needed someone, needed the comfort of another human assuring her everything would be okay. He knew she missed her grandmother, but he had a feeling what bothered her included far more than her grief over her beloved granny. Every effort he made to get her to talk to him resulted in her drawing away. Since she stopped every day after school to check on Jasper, he both dreaded and looked forward to the moment she’d walk through his classroom door.
Frustrated she wouldn’t open up to him, give him a chance to be a true friend to her, he just wanted to punch or kick something. Since that was out of the question, he’d decided to go for a run and hopefully work off some of the tension coiling inside him.
Normally, Drake loved the holiday season, relished every part of it. From the excitement of his students to the traditional community activities, he enjoyed every special moment. He typically got along great with Drew and his friends. Yet, here he was barely speaking to his brother or Rhett and dreading the coming weeks of the Christmas season all because of his feelings for a woman who saw him as a friend. Not even a good friend, just someone she talked to about everything except the things that really mattered.
Drake tucked his cell phone into a pocket in his shirt’s sleeve and zipped it shut then grabbed a set of Bluetooth-enabled ear warmers.
“I’m going for a run,” he said to Drew as he poked his head inside his brother’s bedroom.
Drew angrily slammed a drawer as he put away clean clothes. He glanced over his shoulder and scowled at Drake. “Are you nuts? It’s freezing outside and it’s supposed to start snowing again.”
“I know, but I just need…” Drake didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what he needed beyond Angela. “I’ll be fine. Want me to bring back anything for dinner?”
“If it’s fine with you, I’ll make grilled cheese sandwiches and soup. It’s my turn to cook isn’t it?”
“Yeah, and that’s fine. Thanks, Drew.” Drake turned and left the apartment. Outside, the frigid temperatures made him shiver. He’d probably give himself pneumonia, but at that moment he didn’t really care.
He tugged the ear warmers on, chose an eighties rock station, and stretched his muscles. When he started jogging down the sidewalk a few minutes later, an unbidden picture of Angela walking into the living room the other night with her hair down made him almost trip over the curb. She’d looked so beautiful with the firelight shimmering in those golden waves. Drake had often dreamed of what it would be like to bury his hands in her hair, to lose himself in her kisses.
“Knock it off!” he groused to himself, drawing the admonishing scowl of Mrs. Beeler as he jogged past her house. The school principal stood in her driveway, attempting to shovel away snow. The woman was a cranky, fusty old thing who didn’t care for children. He’d heard rumors she planned to retire at the end of the school year. That would be a good thing for everyone.
He’d jogged halfway down the block before he spun around and returned to her driveway. “Do you need some help, Mrs. Beeler?” he asked, jogging in place as she set down the shovel and leaned on it.
“What will you charge?” she asked, narrowing her gaze at him.
“Nothing,” Drake said, wishing he’d kept on running. “No charge.”
She straightened and shot him a speculative stare. “This won’t earn you any bonus points at school.”
“I didn’t expect it to,” Drake said, taking the shovel from her and going to work on her driveway. Hefting the heavy, wet snow gave him a good work out and burned off some of the energy and unsettled tension that had filled him the past few weeks.
It took him thirty minutes to finish. When he did, Mrs. Beeler came out of her house where she’d retreated to watch his every move from the front window. She handed him a bottle of water with a curt nod. “Thank you, Drake. That was kind of you.”
“You know, ‘tis the season.” He forced a smile as he backed toward the street. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Mrs. Beeler.”
After taking a long swig of water, he returned to his run. He drained the bottle and left it in a recycle bin near city hall, looped past the town square and jogged past Rhett’s garage. He couldn’t help but smile at the tree Rhett had made of stacked tires and decorated with strings of lights. There was also a snowman made of stacked tires painted white with an old hubcap for a hat and wrenches for arms.
He lengthened his stride and headed through town and ran past Rhett’s place. Lolly wasn’t out in the pasture, so he glanced back at Cedar’s house and saw the camel lounging in the yard. That probably wasn’t going to earn Rhett any points with the neighbor since she was mad at him anyway.
He ran for a mile, turned around and headed back into Faraday. Drake slowed his pace and looked down Main Street. Lights twinkled through the snow that fell softly in big flakes. Garlands and wreaths adorned businesses, adding to the festive atmosphere. He took a deep breath and smelled wood smoke blending with a distinctive pine scent from the tree lot across the street.
Maybe he and Drew just needed a little holiday cheer.
Drake jogged over to the tree lot and left five minutes later with a small three-foot tall tree that would have made Charlie Brown proud. He carried it home and stamped the snow from his feet before gently shaking it from the tree. When he stepped inside, warmth hit his cold-numbed cheeks, making them sting.
“Thought I might have to go find your frozen carcass and haul it home,” Drew teased as he sat on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels with a postal magazine op
en upside down on his lap.
“I stopped to help Mrs. Beeler shovel her driveway.” Drake kicked off his damp shoes and toed them toward the heating vent to dry.
“That was nice, considering she doesn’t even need a costume on Halloween for her annual appearance as a mean, cranky, old witch.” Drew rose from the couch and pointed to Drake’s tree. “Did you tackle a kid with a head shaped like a bowling ball wearing a yellow and black shirt on your way back here and steal his tree?”
Glad his brother still owned a little bit of his usual humor, Drake grinned and held out the tree. “No bald-headed kids were harmed in the acquisition of this tree, but I thought it might help us find a little Christmas spirit.”
“What are we going to decorate it with and where are we going to put it?” Drew asked as he moved into the kitchen and started rummaging through the cupboards to find a container to hold the tree. He held up a big pickle jar they sometimes used to make sun tea in the summer. “Will this work?”
“It should. Fill it with water.” Drake took Drew’s pocket knife from where he’d left it by the door with his keys and cut off a few straggly little limbs near the bottom of the tree. Drew moved the jar to the small kitchen table. When Drake set the tree in the jar, he and Drew both waited with hands out to see if it would tip, but it held steady.
“Ornaments?” Drew asked, turning to look around the apartment.
“I have an idea,” Drake said, grinning at his brother.
An hour later, they were both chuckling as they finished decorating the tree and stepped back to admire their efforts. They started to string popcorn but realized neither of them would survive being poked repeatedly with the needle they tried to jab through the kernels so they abandoned that idea. Instead, they added ornaments of bow-tie pretzels, fishing bobbers and lures, a few small wrenches and screwdrivers, and a handful of candy canes Drew had received from one of his customers the previous day. While Drew dug through their recycle bin and retrieved enough caps off pop bottles to glue them into a star shape, Drake used plain white paper to make a paper chain similar to the one he helped Nick fashion the other evening.
Wings of an Angel Page 7
