Angels Walking

by Karen Kingsbury

  He chuckled. “Me, either.”

  “So yes, of course. I’ll pray for your shoulder.” She looked at the sling, curious. “Did the doctor give you that?”

  “He did.”

  “Hmmm. Your father must’ve taken you. I remember the bandages on your forearm, but not your shoulder.”

  “I need an operation.”

  Her expression changed and she covered her mouth with her free hand. “That’s terrible. I had no idea.” She motioned for Tyler to lean closer. “Come here. Let me pray for you now.”

  Tyler did as he was asked and Virginia took hold of his good shoulder. Her touch was light, her voice intense as she began to talk to God. “Lord, my son is hurt. He needs a miracle. Your healing power is the only thing we have, Father. So please . . . heal my boy. Help him get the surgery he needs. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  The prayer felt a little strange and Tyler felt like an imposter. But while Virginia prayed a feeling came over him that he’d felt only one other time since he was a kid.

  The feeling was perfect peace.

  It was the same thing he’d felt when that man at Hope Community Church prayed for him. Beck, the paramedic volunteer. Tyler wasn’t sure what to make of the surge of peace, but he would take it. And certainly the Lord—if He was listening—would know Tyler needed the prayers more than Ben. Wherever Ben was.

  Tyler slid back to his spot on the chair and gave Virginia’s hand a slight squeeze. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll pray every day.” She looked and sounded like a woman twenty years younger, completely in her right mind. “When are you having it done?”

  “That’s just it.” He wasn’t trying to confuse her. “I can’t pay for it. I’m saving my money.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Ben, call your sister. If you need help, she’s the one to tell. Smart girl, that Cheryl. Graduated college top of her class.” Virginia squeezed his hand. “Call her.”

  “Good idea.” Tyler smiled. For a few seconds he let an easy silence settle between them. “I have a question.”

  “Okay.” Her eyes smiled and her mouth followed. “I love times like this.”

  “Me, too.” He allowed her happiness a polite moment. Then he felt his smile fade. “Here’s the question. If I don’t go to college, if I find something else I love better . . . would you . . . be angry with me?”

  Surprise came slowly over her face like the sunrise. “Ben Hutcheson, of course not.” She looked wounded by the possibility. “Your father and I talk about staying in school, but school is not for everyone. After all, your own father didn’t take a stitch of college classwork.”

  Vindication came over him like the greatest gift. If his parents had been like Virginia, the war between them never would’ve started. “Really? You’re serious?”

  “Ben Alan Hutcheson, of course I’m serious.” She laughed lightly. “What are you thinking about doing instead?”

  “Well. . .” He wondered how old Virginia thought he was. “I’m thinking about baseball.”

  “Baseball.” She looked out the window, her expression almost dreamlike. “I love that game. Someone I know used to play baseball. I can’t remember who.” She turned to Tyler again. Concern flashed in her eyes. “What about your shoulder? Your surgery?”

  “I mean I’d play after . . . after I’m all healed up.”

  “If anyone can do it, you can.” Her smile grew even more tender.

  Tyler wasn’t sure what to say. He loved how he felt, living someone else’s life even for a few moments, imagining what life might’ve been like if his parents had cared about him like this. The charade was wrong. It had to be. But then, he and Virginia were both benefiting.

  The truth kept him here, kept him in the conversation.

  “Yes, Ben.” Virginia yawned. “I think baseball would be a very nice job. Your father would think so, too.” She glanced at the door. “He should be home anytime.”

  Virginia’s spells of wakefulness were never very long. Her eyelids grew heavy. “Must be nap time.”

  “I was just heading out.” He released her fingers and stood. “Thanks for talking.”

  “Oh, Ben!” She held up her hand. “There is one thing. Before you go.”

  “Yes?” He would’ve done anything for the old woman.

  “You used to sing worship songs for me and my church friends. Remember that?”

  Tyler was quiet.

  “ ‘Amazing Grace’ . . . ‘How Great Thou Art.’ All the old favorites.” Virginia nodded toward the door. “I’m expecting a lot of friends tomorrow morning.” She thought for a few seconds. “Every morning, really. Anyway, it would be so nice if you could join us with your guitar. Play the old songs the way you used to.”

  Tyler felt his stomach tighten. “Ummm.”

  “Now, now.” She waved at the air in front of her. “Don’t start about how you don’t have a good voice. We all love your voice. You know that.”

  What was he supposed to say? His heart skittered around and slid into a rapid rhythm. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll . . . see if I can find the guitar.”

  “That’s a good boy, Ben. Thank you.” Virginia smiled again. “These hours with you and Cheryl and your father are my happiest of all.” She radiated joy. “Jesus is so good. Giving me a family like you.”

  The comment stabbed at Tyler’s heart—where the pain usually took a second seat to his shoulder injury. Not this time. He nodded. “I feel the same way.”

  He put away the broom and mop and drove west to an urgent care he hadn’t visited before. An hour later he had the pain pills in his hands. If he was going to start training the rest of his body, at least this way he wouldn’t have to work through pain. He would quit after this bottle. Really. The shaking had just started when he took the first two pills from the new bottle. Better than taking three or four, he told himself. Maybe the medicine would dull the shame he felt over needing Oxycodone. He refused to think about it.

  Instead he thought about Virginia.

  Was the ruse wrong? Was he unkind to let her believe the lie? Either way it was too late to stop. Virginia had found a son, and not only that.

  Tyler had found a mother.

  18

  EMBER AND BECK HOVERED over the downtown Los Angeles Hyatt and talked in hushed tones.

  “A battle is taking shape.” Beck stared through the windows of the highest floor. “You see it?”

  “The dinner party?”

  “Yes.” Beck felt anxious beside her. “The one about to start.”

  Ember knew the weight of the situation. They still hadn’t figured out a way to get Tyler to California and time was running out.

  “The humans in that room have no idea what’s at stake.” Beck felt the concern in his expression. “I turned up the heat.”

  “The heat?” Ember loved working with Beck. He was easily the most creative angel on the team. “In the building?”

  “In the ballroom.” He let his eyes meet Ember’s. “You’ll go walking. The minute Sami gets too hot.”

  Ember didn’t need to ask whether that would happen. They’d been praying for a breakthrough. If Beck had a plan, something was about to give. Which was a good thing.

  They were just about out of time.

  THE LAW FIRM hosted the dinner several times a year. Local conservatives, politicians, and prosecutors. An accomplished crowd for sure, but Sami struggled to stay present. Dinner that Saturday night was on the top floor of the downtown Hyatt. But the room was hot and stuffy and Sami kept looking through the glass walls to the outdoors. Through two double doors was an open-air garden terrace, twenty-two floors off the ground.

  Sami wanted to be out there in the worst way.

  A trio of violinists played classical music from a corner near the buffet line. Prime rib at a carving station, chilled shrimp, butterflied chicken fillets. Other than the heat, the atmosphere was perfect. Like the guests—at least in her boyfriend’s mind. Arnie was talking now, waxing on about the case he’d be
en given.

  “So it turns out the drug they’ve been prescribing for diabetes actually makes patients gain weight.” He looked at the rapt faces of those at their table. A senator and a congressman and their wives, and two other lawyers from the firm. “Weight, of course, exacerbates diabetes. It raises blood sugar all on its own. It’s terrible.” Arnie held up his pointer finger. “Here’s the clincher. I have documentation to prove that the defendants actually know their drug makes diabetes worse. But still they launched into a full marketing campaign to the contrary.”

  Sami stared out the window again. The sparkle of lights beyond mesmerized her. Like the stars overhead that night on her grandparents’ roof with Tyler Ames. Three days had passed since she’d seen his private message. She hadn’t answered him, but nothing had felt right since. She suddenly realized she wasn’t listening. Focus, she ordered herself. You’re being rude.

  “That’s terrible.” The senator shook his head. “Is this a class-action suit? I mean, I know you’re young, Arnie, but talk to your superiors. There’s a whole generation of diabetics who need to know about this.”

  “Exactly.” Arnie raised his brow and looked around the room. “Someone needs to turn down the heat.” He didn’t seem aware that Sami was even there. He smiled at the senator. “But no, this isn’t class action. Not yet, anyway. The more information I find, the more damaging it is for the defendants.” He sat back, clearly proud of himself. “Let’s just say I feel pretty good about a win.”

  Sami nodded. What were they talking about? Diabetes? She nodded again. Stay interested, Sami. Stay interested.

  The congressman leaned on his forearms, his eyes intent. “What are the parameters of the case?”

  “Clear-cut.” Arnie was in his glory. “The plaintiff heard about the drug through the defendants’ slick marketing campaign, took it for a year, and watched her weight soar fifty pounds . . .”

  Sami couldn’t take another moment. “Excuse me.” She stood and leaned close to Arnie. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Samantha.” Confusion creased his forehead. “We’re about to eat.”

  “I know.” She picked up her clutch purse and smiled at the others. “I won’t be long.”

  She wore pretty black pumps and a black Rag and Bone dress for the occasion—Arnie’s gift. Her hair was styled in a classic up-do—Arnie’s favorite for nights like this. What had he said to her when he picked her up at her apartment? “You look like the wife of a congressman, Samantha. Beautiful and understated. Absolutely perfect.”

  Understated? Sami walked with practiced poise through the dining room and out into the hall. She didn’t need to use the restroom. She needed air. Any means possible of clearing her mind. She quickened her pace and walked to the end of the hall. A door led to the other side of the outdoor garden. From this part of the terrace she was hidden from the dining room.

  The moment she was outside she sucked in three quick breaths. Never mind the LA smog. This was the freshest air she’d had in an hour. She walked to the railing and held it with both hands, steadying herself.

  Understated, really? The word rattled around in her empty heart. Did Arnie really think that was a compliment? She was twenty-four years old. Wasn’t she a little young to be going for understated?

  Her grandparents loved Arnie. He wasn’t as perfect as they thought he was, but he came pretty close. He had even talked about getting back to church in a few years, after they married and before kids came along. Theirs would be a grounded life, safe and financially secure. No question. They would laugh at their TV shows and play board games on the weekends and pay the mortgage on time. Arnie would be a good father.

  Stop, she told herself. What was she thinking? She loved Arnie. He was kind and good and successful. They had everything in common, right? They loved Italian restaurants and sitting on the beach and playing Scrabble. Of course he was the right one for her. The conversation tonight just felt a little heavy, that’s all.

  If only there was a way to feign sickness and go home. She and Mary Catherine could watch reruns of The Cosby Show. Anything but sharing a dinner table with the people here tonight. She tilted her head back and stared at the sky. Only a few stars were bright enough to compete with the lights of Los Angeles. “God . . . what am I doing?” she whispered. Not a prayer, really. Just that no one else seemed to be listening to her tonight. “How did I wind up in this life?”

  Her mind settled down. She focused on taking slow breaths. Everything was going to be okay. She peered into the dark sky and tried to imagine her future with Arnie. As she did she heard the door open behind her. Great . . . Arnie followed me. She turned and felt herself relax. It was a woman, someone about Sami’s age.

  She was striking. Long blond-red hair and bright blue eyes, set off by her bright blue dress. “Beautiful out here.” The woman drew a quick breath and took a spot at the railing, a few feet down from Sami.

  “Yes. And quiet.” Sami looked over her shoulder at the door again. “Were you at the dinner party?”

  “Yes.” She laughed lightly. “About to fall asleep.”

  “Me, too. It was hot in there.” This was supposed to be a few minutes alone. But Sami liked the woman. She felt almost as if they’d met before. “I’m here with Arnie Bell.” Sami hesitated. “Do I know you?”

  “Ahh, Arnie Bell.” The woman raised one eyebrow. “I know him. Very serious.” She held out her hand. “And no. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Ember.”

  “Hi. I’m Sami.” She smiled. “I like your name.”

  “Thanks.” Ember stared out at the lights of the city. “I just needed to breathe. Needed to feel close to God. Dinner parties make that a little tough.”

  “Definitely.” Sami studied the woman. Something about her was so familiar. “You’re here with one of the lawyers?”

  “Just as friends.” She looked relaxed. “I learned something a long time ago. I’d rather be single than be with the wrong guy.” Ember smiled. “Life’s too short to settle.”

  The woman’s words seemed to cut straight through her. “You’re right . . .” Sami looked back at the city lights. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “Hey . . . I need to go.” Ember looked at her. “God has good plans for you, Sami.”

  “For me?” Sami felt a chill pass over her arms and down her spine. “What does that—”

  “You know. The Bible verse. Jeremiah 29:11.” Ember smiled. “God has great plans for His people.” She shrugged, her expression light. “I guess I was just thinking about it.”

  “Yeah.” Sami faced the woman. “Thanks.”

  Ember waved. “Nice meeting you.”

  “You, too.” Sami watched the woman walk back through the door and down the hall. Then she turned and stared into the dark sky. What a sweet person. Almost as if she had known Sami was out here.

  Her words washed over Sami once more.

  I’d rather be single than be with the wrong guy . . . Life’s too short to settle.

  Suddenly, despite the twinkling lights of the city, all Sami could see was Tyler Ames.

  She had memorized his Facebook message. He was doing well. Still in Pensacola and working toward the Big Leagues. He’d stopped drinking. He still thought about her.

  Every now and then, anyway.

  Nothing about the injury or how it had ended his season. Nothing to tell her why he had looked her up now—after so many missed opportunities. Sami heard a plane overhead. She watched it fly east, further away from her. Where was it going? Maybe to Pensacola. It would be that easy, right? Get on a plane and go see for herself. Who was Tyler Ames today?

  And how come they had lost touch?

  When exactly was the last time he tried to call her? Their last conversation, of course, was after the arrest. Sure, they were Facebook friends. But Sami never looked him up. She didn’t want to talk. He had hurt her. She needed to move on with her life. Which she had. Quite successfully.

  If she had to guess, she doubted
Tyler was eating at a place like the Hilton tonight. Sure, he’d gotten a huge signing bonus. He had paid cash for the Charger and he probably blew through the rest over the next year or so. Back then, his crazy life had to be expensive.

  But wherever he was, whatever he was doing, Tyler had taken the time to write to her. She could at least respond, tell him how she was doing, talk about the job and her roommate and . . .

  No! She pulled away from the railing and walked back inside. What was she thinking? If she wrote back to Tyler it would mean only one thing: she was interested. If she acted interested in Tyler, he would assume the door between them was open. Even just a crack.

  Which it wasn’t.

  She walked quickly down the hallway. How long had she been gone? Arnie would be impatient. She absolutely would not answer Tyler’s message. Better, she would delete it as soon as she got home. A group of women was leaving the dinner party as Sami entered the room. Good, she thought. A distraction. The whole room wouldn’t be watching her. Slow down. Poise over pace. How many times had her grandmother told her that? Young ladies don’t rush into a room. They take their time. Confidence is key.

  She scanned the room for Ember. Before the night was over Sami wanted to find her and thank her for her random wisdom. She would never know the impact of her words tonight. She couldn’t settle for a broken past relationship when she was dating someone so wonderful. And that was Arnie—even on his off nights.

  Instead of Ember, halfway across the dining room, Sami saw her boyfriend. He was still talking, still engrossed in telling stories. Suddenly her own pep talk on Arnie’s behalf felt a little flat. He didn’t even miss me. She thought about turning around or searching the room until she found Ember. But at the last second Arnie noticed her and he hurried to his feet. His smile remained, but as she reached him he lowered his voice so only Sami could hear it. “What took so long?”