Читать книгу A Heavenly Christmas - Rhonda Merwarth - Страница 6

Chapter Two

Max chopped the vegetables for the warm stew he was whipping up. The people at his diner loved it, and he only offered it during the Christmas season, which made it a special holiday treat. He took comfort in the rote action, something he’d grown familiar with since opening the diner. This was where he belonged, not on a stage. Not anymore.

As he diced and julienned, he ignored the sensation in his gut, the one that called him a coward for not doing the audition last night. He’d really wanted to… at least, on some level. But push had come to shove, and he hadn’t been able to. He was disappointed in himself. His nerves were a clear sign that it wasn’t meant to be. Right?

His niece Lauren came back in the kitchen, distracting him from his thoughts. Her long hair swayed as she walked. “Uncle Max!” she said happily.

Afternoon already? Time had gotten away from him. He shot her a smile. “Hey, kiddo! Did you have a fun sleepover with your grandparents?”

“Yup!” She settled onto a stool and watched him continue dicing up the veggies. Lauren loved observing him cook and even helping in whatever way he’d let her. She had a good sense of taste for a fifth grader. And he welcomed having her in the kitchen, even if part of him felt like this wasn’t exactly the best life for her. But he was raising her, and he had to work, so that meant she was stuck with him here.

He scooped the vegetables into the big pot of simmering liquid. “How about school? Did you guys rehearse that play?”

“Forget about me,” she said, smiling slyly. “How was your audition?”

Ugh. “I, uh…” He wiped his hands clean. “I didn’t actually make it,” he murmured in a quiet tone.

“Why?”

“Traffic jam.” Easier to blame that than his own fear. And it was kind of true—he was really late because of that woman, and there was a possibility he wouldn’t have made it in time anyway. Keep rationalizing your cowardice, Max, his conscience chided. “Sorry, kiddo,” he said when he saw her look of disappointment. He hated letting her down, but he just wasn’t ready. “Next Christmas, okay?” By then, he’d for sure have his A game back. He hoped.

“But that’s 372 days away,” she said, eyeing him. She could see right through him.

“It’ll go fast.” He scooped a serving spoon into the pot and brought it to her, laden with golden broth. “I’m working on our famous Yuletide Stew,” he said as she sipped.

She thought for a moment. “Needs more turmeric.”

He frowned. “Turmeric, eh?” He downed the rest of the spoonful to confirm her thoughts, then dug through the spices to find it. The girl was right, as usual.

Lauren gave a small sigh. “Remember when you and Mom used to sing at the holidays and write those funny songs?” The longing in her voice made his chest ache as he had a flash of memory of him and his sister. Sitting around the Christmas tree, him with his ever-present guitar, both of them laughing at their ridiculous lines and getting their whole family in on it.

They’d had such a good time. His sister had been not only his singing partner, but his best friend.

He shook the spice into the stew and said in a low voice, “I remember.”

“Why can’t you just start again?”

If only things were that simple. Lauren wouldn’t understand, though. “It isn’t that easy, kiddo.”

He glanced over from the pot to see her looking down at the floor, her face unreadable. “’Cause you have me,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Of course not,” he said, turning his full attention to her. “I love having you.” He hoped she could hear the truth in his words as he stirred the stew. “I was just never any good without your mom.” Since she’d died, everything had changed. He’d lost his mojo. His talent. His inner fire.

“But you are good,” she protested.

Max saw the meat on the cooking surface was ready to turn. He grabbed the spatula and went to it, flipping it over. “Remember when you told me you were stuck on those lines in your school play?” he asked her.

She nodded.

“I’m stuck, too.” The admission was hard to say, but he wanted her to know why he just… couldn’t. He put the spatula down and scooped another spoonful of stew for her to sample. “Come on. Turmeric, or not turmeric? That is the question.”

She took a sip and gave him a knowing look. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

“How did you guess?” he said smoothly at her smile. So much like his sister—her mom—the kid was too smart for her own good.

“Uncle Max?” Lauren asked as Max tucked her into bed later that evening. “I know you’re not a morning person, but is it okay if we get up early and go sledding?”

He tucked a teddy bear beside her. “Who says I’m not a morning person?”

“You said musicians were night owls.” She said it in a tone far too mature for her age.

Hah. The child remembered everything he ever told her. He shifted on the bed beside her. “Well, that was before you moved in.” He gave a heavy, fake sigh. “Now I never sleep at all.”

They grinned at each other, and she snuggled the bear against her chest.

“When Grandma and Grandpa leave, are you going to teach me to play guitar?” she asked innocently.

His heart thrummed against his ribcage. He wasn’t ready for the conversation he knew they needed to have. Not yet. “Let’s talk about it after New Year’s,” he said with a forced smile. “Okay?” He patted her leg. “Good night, sweetie. Sweet dreams.” He shut off her light, closed the door, and walked into the living room. Eyeing the guitars lined up against the corner, he rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled softly.

On the mantel was a picture of him and his sister, her smile piercing, eyes sparkling, him with his guitar beside her. He picked up the photo and looked at the image, the familiar pain of missing her rushing into him. Since her death two years ago, he felt like he’d aged a hundred years. His whole life had changed. He settled down into his chair and got caught up in memories of a time when life was easier and music was in his soul.

Now, his soul was silent, and he felt empty inside. Like a big piece of him was gone. And he suspected he’d never get it back.

The next afternoon, Carter, a Santa hat tilted on his head, came by Eve’s office and handed her a mug full of eggnog. Outside her door, she could hear people chatting and festive music playing. The Christmas party had started, and everyone was having a fantastic time from the sounds of it. Good for them. Part of her wished they were a bit quieter so she could focus, but she knew the parties came with the territory. Oh well.

“Thank you,” she said to Carter with a chuckle as she took the offering. “Is this poisoned?” she teased. She knew he wouldn’t do something like that, that the competition between them was healthy and fair, but it was fun to harass him.

Instead of laughing, his face turned serious. “A little piece of advice from someone who’s been doing this longer.” He paused and she eyed him. “I know how badly you want this partnership. And you’re probably going to get it. But some really good stuff is passing you by.”

She stared at him for a moment, unsure what to make of the frank remark. Wait a minute. She knew what this was, what he was doing. “Are you trying to psych me out?” she asked with a smirk.

Carter smiled then and rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, don’t give up that easily!” she protested.

She could see flashes of emotion pass in his eyes, something that looked suspiciously close to pity. For her. It made her a little uncomfortable. “I’m going home to Christmas carol with my family.”

“Okay,” she replied quietly. “Have fun.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” he offered.

Right. Because she was so the singing type. “Thank you. But while you’re out caroling, I’m going to be here, signing new clients.” He already was aware of this, of course, but she felt she needed to reiterate. This was why he’d admitted that she’d be getting the partnership. They both knew it. Because her work ethic was stronger than anyone else’s at the company, and she didn’t let anything get in the way of her goals.

Carter gave a brief nod. “Good night, Eve.”

“Okay, thanks, Carter!” she said with a wave, then settled down into her chair.

Eve took a sip of the eggnog and grimaced at the thick, creamy liquid. Gross. How did people drink this stuff, anyway? She set it aside on her desk and resumed work.

The reveling outside in the main area continued for hours. But after a while, it was easy enough to shut it out when she kept her attention on the task at hand. She reviewed the stocks banners and scrawled down notes for her existing clients as discussion points on how to improve their portfolio. She had a hunch one tech stock in particular was going to take off—an up-and-coming company with cutting-edge innovation, from what she’d read—and she wanted to be right on the forefront of it when it did.

By the time Eve decided to call it a night the entire building was silent and dark. She closed her office door and walked out. Yes, the work day was technically done, but she could do a little more business on her way back home. No sense wasting the time, right?

She dialed Ted’s number and headed out into the snowy night air, her breath puffing around her in soft clouds. A woman at a food stand called out offering chestnuts, but due to her nut allergy, she declined as she waited on hold.

The woman said “Merry Christmas,” but the other side of the line answered, and Eve said into the phone, “Hey, Ted, it’s Eve Morgan from Crestlane Financial. I’m just gonna come right out and say it, let the chips fall where they may. I know you’re with West Trade Brokers, and I just wanna—”

Eve’s high heel slipped on an icy patch, and she hollered in surprise as she flew through the air and fell. Hard.

Her head thunked on the sidewalk, and a flash of brilliant pain enveloped her before everything went dark.

Eve blinked her eyes open and looked around in confusion. The room she was in was white, pristine, and she was lying on a bed—a bed that wasn’t hers in a room that wasn’t anywhere she’d ever been.

What happened? Where was she? Her memories felt scattered, and she couldn’t wrap her head around what led her here, to this strange place. She frowned. Why couldn’t she remember anything?

“What… ?” she whispered, glancing at the bed—and the white cat lying curled up against her leg in an eerily familiar fashion. Her throat grew tight with emotion as she said, “Snowball?” She reached down to pet his soft fur. Was this real? “Hi, kitty,” she whispered. How was he here?

No, this couldn’t be possible. Snowball had passed away a long time ago, when she was a kid. She’d loved that cat like crazy.

“You look just like a cat I had when I was little. Except he had a… black tail,” she trailed off when she shifted the covers to reveal that this cat, too, bore a black tail.

Something in her chest felt odd. This wasn’t right. Nothing felt normal here. Was she awake? Dreaming? In a hospital bed on drugs? She scooped the cat into her arms and sat up on the white bed, looking around again.

What is going on?

“There ya go,” she said, letting the cat onto the floor. It scurried under the bed.

Nearby was a mirror; Eve stepped up to it and examined herself. She wasn’t wearing her usual dark business outfit. Instead, she had on a silky white dress. I know I don’t own anything like this. Something was majorly off.

“Miss Morgan,” a light voice said from behind her.

Eve spun around to see an older woman with bobbed brown hair, her body also clad in all white like Eve, standing right behind her. The woman’s smile was wide and welcoming.

“Hello. I’m Pearl,” she said in a smooth tone. “I’m going to be with you during this transition.”

Eve stared blankly in shock. “Transition?” What could she be talking about? None of this made sense, and she was starting to feel freaked out, her hands trembling. Everything about this place was weird. Her pulse stuttered in her veins, and she struggled to maintain her usual calm sense of control. She had to be sick or something. That was the only thing that was logical. “Okay. I don’t know what kind of hospital this is, or why I’m here, but as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” She looked down at herself, taking stock of her body. “In fact, I’ve never felt better,” she realized. “So, hopefully, you bill insurance—I have 90/10 group coverage.”

Pearl chuckled. “We don’t take insurance up here.”

Eve swallowed. Was she in danger? Why would this woman laugh about that? No matter. She would pay up and get out of here. “Okay, then I’ll just, uh, put it on my credit card.” She walked over to the white dresser nearby and pulled the top drawer open, searching for her purse.

“Credit cards aren’t necessary here, either,” Pearl said.

“But… where’s my bag?” Eve asked. “Where’s my phone?” Panic swelled in her, and she began to dart around the room. Nothing felt right here. Nothing made sense.

“They don’t matter here.”

Here? Where was here? Eve searched the bed to see if maybe her bag was tucked under the sheet. Nothing. She turned and eyed the woman with suspicion. “Do I have a concussion?”

Pearl chuckled. “No.”

Okay, scratch that idea. “But… I am on some kind of medication though, right?” It was the only thing that would explain why she’d have a hallucination like this. The surreal surroundings… Her deceased cat… No personal belongings to help identify her… “’Cause I think I’m having a reaction. Everything… is white.”

“Yes,” Pearl whispered with a grin. “Isn’t it beautiful? So peaceful.”

“No, it’s not peaceful, it’s crazy!” Eve blurted out, frustration pouring into her voice. “Or I am.” She eyed Pearl, a sudden suspicion about what was going on coming to mind. “Did Carter put you up to this?” It would be low for him, really low, but maybe he was more desperate for the partnership than he’d let on. Had she underestimated his drive? Had he made her think he was more of a family man than he was?

“No.”

“I mean, that is devious,” she said, taking hold of the idea. Maybe that was what was going on, even if she didn’t want to admit it. How well did she really know the man? To plan something insane like this just to get her to back off… “He’s got that warm, friendly smile. Wow, he must really want the partnership.”

“You know,” Pearl said with a knowledgeable shake of her head, “as I see it, he’s going to get it.”

“Over my dead body,” Eve declared hotly.

Pearl made a noise of agreement and pointed at her, brows raised.

Eve frowned. No. No way. “What?” The woman couldn’t possibly mean…

“Miss Morgan, do you remember when you tripped and fell on the ice and hit your head very hard when you were making that cold call?”

Eve’s stomach flipped as a flash of memory swept into her. Oh, right—she was talking to Ted and pitching him when her heel had slipped. But wait… She narrowed her eyes. “How do you even know that?”

Pearl walked toward her and touched her upper arms, nudging her to sit back on the bed. She stood over her and said as plain as day, “Miss Morgan. You are in heaven.”

Okay. “Heaven,” Eve said, her disbelief certainly ringing through in her voice. Sure she was. And cows jumped over the moon—which was made of cheese, of course.

Then she saw the cat she was sure was Snowball walk right through a nearby column, coming out on the other side and continuing on its merry way. Right. Through. It.

She gasped and pointed. “Did you see that?”

Pearl sniffed and swiped at her nose casually. “Oh, Snowball does that all the time up here.”

“But… Snowball’s been gone for a long time.” How was she really supposed to wrap her mind around what Pearl was saying, even with the oddity she just saw? Nothing made sense. And yet, something about what she was saying wouldn’t stop nagging at her—the way she’d hit her head, and everything had gone black after that.

She bit her lower lip.

Pearl sat down beside Eve and wrapped her arm around her. “Time can be very confusing. But in the meantime, you’ll settle in.”

“So…” Eve took a deep breath and made herself acknowledge what she couldn’t believe—didn’t want to believe. “What you’re saying is that… I’m… dead.”

“But I can’t be dead yet!” Eve, clutching the woman’s hand, protested as Pearl led her down a hallway past other people clad in white. Her free hand was waving in the air, echoing her disbelief at the current state of affairs. No way. No. Way. “I wasn’t even finished living. I never even started… I had all these things to do. I was going to start my own hedge firm and buy a country house and get married—and I never even let myself fall in love.” The words flowed hot and furious from her as she poured out her feelings. “It just… can’t be over…”

“No, no,” Pearl soothed and led her to a nearby bench. “Don’t cry, Miss Morgan. We are angels. Angels can’t cry.”

Eve stared at Pearl in disbelief. “Angels?” How could that possibly be true? Not only was she dead, but she was an angel, to boot? This was all too hard to believe.

The woman patted her on the back, and Eve eyed the hallway, taking everything in in a new light. Were all these people angels? Was she really one now?

“Let’s talk somewhere more private,” Pearl suggested, gripping Eve’s hand. The hall faded away, and just like that, Eve found herself on a serene, isolated beach. The sky was expansive, and soft waves licked the sandy shore. She had on a white wrap, just like Pearl, to protect her from the gentle, cool breeze coming off the water.

No doubt about it. Pearl was telling the truth. No one could vanish and appear at will, not when alive, anyway. Eve was here on this shore, experiencing this place fully. Awake, yes—but not alive.

She was an angel, then.

“So this is it?” she said as she stumbled along the sand beside the woman. “This is the end?” So many things left undone. What was her purpose now?

“Oh, no. We like to think of this as the new beginning,” Pearl explained.

“What do we do here?”

Pearl paused in her steps and turned to Eve, leaning back against an outcropping of rocks. “Well, among… other things, we answer prayers. I’m a guardian angel. You’ve been selected to be a Christmas angel.”

Eve blinked. This had to be a joke. “Christmas? Now I know there’s been a mistake.” She couldn’t help the dryness in her tone. After all, she wasn’t exactly the world’s biggest Christmas fan. Of all the people they could have chosen to be that particular kind of angel, why her? It didn’t make sense.

“I agree,” Pearl said wryly. “It’s not an obvious choice. We have a shortage this season.”

“I barely celebrate Christmas,” Eve protested.

“Well, now you can.”

Right. Eve let out a heavy sigh and looked out at the water. “With all due respect, Pearl, I just don’t see myself celebrating anything for a long, long time.”

Pearl seemed to choose her words carefully. “Perhaps when you go back, you will change. You’re being sent down to answer a Christmas wish.”

That got Eve’s attention. She swallowed. “I get to go back.” She didn’t have to stay up here in the all-white weirdness for eternity.

“Mm-hmm. For a week.”

Okay, not a lot of time, but she’d make do. “What happens in a week?”

Pearl narrowed her eyes. “Christmas.”

“Ohh,” she breathed. Duh, of course.

Eve felt Pearl’s warm grip in hers, that strange, surreal feeling of everything fading away, and then she was surrounded by a painfully familiar setting. Downtown Chicago, bustling with traffic and pedestrians, Christmas decorations on every stretch of street. The cool air chilled her cheeks, though she was snuggly warm in her black winter coat. She smiled.

“I’m back!” she exclaimed. Hard to believe it, but she’d missed the place. Everything seemed so different now, so alive. The quiet serenity of heaven was a drastic change from the teeming life in the city.

“Mm-hmm,” Pearl said, patting her hand and leading her down the sidewalk. “Now, there are rules.”

“Rules?”

“Yes, you cannot attract any attention to yourself. No one can know that you are now an angel.” They walked past a street vendor, past numerous people milling about on the sidewalk who stopped in their tracks and looked at the two of them.

“Who would believe that anyway?” Eve asked. Except maybe the weirdos who wandered down the street, muttering to themselves while pushing shopping carts full of dirty bags.

“You’d be surprised,” Pearl said drolly.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” Eve realized that as they walked, people were casting her odd glances.

“Because you are the only one they can see.”

Crud. Her cheeks flamed. “Oh, so they all just think I’m talking to myself.” Marvelous. Now she looked as crazy as the people she’d always thought were nuts.

Pearl dismissed her concerns with a wave of her hand. “It’s Chicago, dear. Everybody does it.” She paused as they continued walking. “And you are allowed to inspire, but not to lead.”

“Uh-huh.” Eve wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but she’d figure it out.

“And then you must do all of this by yourself,” Pearl added. “You must find your own way, and under no circumstances are you to form any attachments or relationships.” These words were delivered with heavy weight.

Eve glanced over at the angel as snow fell, chilling her cheeks and reminding her what it felt like to be alive. “Well, I never found time to do that on earth. I don’t think I’m going to start in the afterlife.” She smothered a sardonic chuckle, unable to do more than shake her head at herself. Truer words had never been spoken. Ah, well.

They paused, and Pearl eyed her hard. “And… no contacting anyone that you know.”

Dusk fell quickly and bathed Chicago in darkness. The skyline was bright with smattered lights on the high-rise buildings. Life moved through the city in waves of sound, the honking of horns, the chatter of people, wandering to and fro as they made their way to wherever they were headed.

“I have fondness for this city,” Pearl said from the park bench just outside downtown proper, where they looked at everything hustling and bustling before them. “I love to come back and check it out when I can.” Despite the cold in the air, she didn’t seem chilled at all, even clad in just her thin white garb. She pointed. “I grew up in Wicker Park.”

“How long ago was that?”

Pearl retorted, “Let’s just say I’ve been wearing white a long time.”

That made Eve chuckle. She shook her head as she eyed the cityscape in fresh wonder. “I never noticed all the colors. The lights and the sounds. It’s so beautiful.” Like a painting. How was it she’d never sat on a bench and just looked at the skyline?

Not taking her eyes off the view, Pearl whispered in response, “Yeah.”

A thought came to Eve, and she felt a surge of sadness. “My brother… I have to tell my brother. He doesn’t know what happened to me.” Tyler must have so many questions.

“Yes, he does,” Pearl said quickly. “You have to focus on your assignment now. You have a little girl who’s extremely worried about her uncle. He’s at a crossroads in his life, and I’m afraid he’s lost his way.”

Eve shook off thoughts of her brother. She’d deal with that. But first, she had to understand the details of her assignment. “Okay, but what am I supposed to do?” How could she possibly help with this?

Pearl sighed and stood. “I don’t know how you’re going to fix it, but you really need to do it before Christmas. Let’s go.”