Angels at the Table (Angels Everywhere #7)(22)

Lucie needed no time to make that decision. “I’ll contact him first thing in the morning.”

“Perfect.”

Hungry for information, Lucie dug deeper. “Did you and Aren talk about anything else?”

Her mother hesitated. “Well, yes, and I hope I didn’t speak out of turn. I told him that you constantly scoured the newspaper looking for his byline.”

“Oh, Mom.” Lucie wished she hadn’t.

“I could tell he was pleased to hear it.”

“He was?” In retrospect, Aren deserved to know that Lucie hadn’t forgotten him. Not a day passed that he didn’t drift into her mind at one time or another. They’d been together only a few hours; nevertheless, Aren Fairchild had left a powerful impression on her.

“You ready to head home?” her mother asked.

Lucie nodded. “I bet you’re tired.”

“I’m fine. I’ve always enjoyed meeting people, but I do have to say, these dogs are barking.” Removing her shoe, Wendy rubbed her sore toes.

“We did it,” Mercy said and gave Goodness a high five.

“Aren didn’t once wonder why Wendy seated him so close to the kitchen.”

“That was an excellent idea even if I say so myself.” Shirley’s chest seemed to swell double in size.

Will looked unconvinced. “Would Gabriel call this Earthly interference?”

“No way,” Shirley assured him. “It wasn’t even close. If you want to talk about interference, then we can discuss the time Goodness took over that department store escalator or—”

“How did you get Lucie to look out of the kitchen when she did?” Will asked.

Mercy was grateful for the change of topic. She responded by pushing up the sleeves of her long white gown to reveal a row of small bells.

“The bells Lucie heard? That came from you?”

“That will be our little secret, okay?” Gabriel might not appreciate her sleight of hand … a small play on words there.

“Wow.”

“It’s a gift,” Goodness explained, folding her hands and raising her head toward heaven with her eyes closed.

“You mean like peace, hope, mercy … that kind of godly gift.”

“Ah, not exactly.” They were leading Will down a slippery slope that made Mercy uncomfortable. “Actually, the bells are a small trick I learned years ago that I use on rare occasions.”

“To garner humans’ attention,” Shirley supplied. “I remember once when Goodness appeared in church.”

“She appeared in … bodily form as an angel?” This was one of the first lessons angels learned. Only those on direct assignment from God were allowed to appear as they were without disguise or dressed as ordinary humans. In all other instances they were to remain invisible or to take on human form.

“It was an emergency situation,” Goodness clarified.

“It was necessary,” Mercy seconded, “or Goodness would never have taken the risk.”

Will looked to Goodness for an explanation.

“I appeared before a pastor who’d lost his wife to cancer.”

“And with his wife he’d lost his faith, too,” Shirley added.

Goodness’s eyes brightened. “I wanted this poor grieving man to see God’s love. I stood in the front of the church and in the full glory of God’s grace I spread my wings and let my light shine.”

Will’s eyes grew huge and round. “What happened?”

Mercy came to stand closer to her friend. “Maybe we should see what Aren Fairchild is doing now that he’s seen Lucie.”

“No, wait,” Will insisted, “tell me what happened to Goodness and the pastor. You have to tell me.”

Goodness sighed and her shoulders and wings sank several inches. “He didn’t see me.”

“Didn’t see you?” Will was incredulous. “How could he not see you? The light of God’s love should have blinded him.”

“He was too caught up in his grief.”

“Oh dear,” Will whispered, astonished.

“That’s when I came up with the idea of the bells,” Mercy explained. “It’s a more subtle approach. The more time you spend dealing with humans the more you’ll learn that one must be subtle.”

“Most of the time delicate handling works,” Shirley added.

“Most of the time,” Mercy agreed, but then added under her breath, “but not all.”

“Okay, let’s find out what Aren’s doing,” Will said.

Chapter Eight

“You aren’t going to call Lucie?” Josie demanded, sipping coffee from the disposable cup as they headed toward the subway station the following morning. “You’re going to make her call you?”

Aren knew Josie couldn’t possibly understand the dilemma he was in; well, then again, maybe she did. He had his pride, which was something his sister should understand. After all, it was pride that kept her from contacting Jack, even though Aren strongly suspected his sister was still in love with her former fiancé. She had been stingy with information as to what exactly had gone wrong. Although he was fairly certain it had something to do with the wedding, a disagreement, probably something silly, that had quickly escalated. Apparently it had grown to the point that they were convinced, one or the other, that marriage wasn’t such a good idea after all. Following that, it made sense to assume they decided continuing their relationship wouldn’t work either. Nerves stretched to the limit over a wedding and now Josie was alone and unhappy. Well, Aren and his sister made a great team, supporting each other in their misery.