Touched by Angels (Angels Everywhere #3)(16)

Brynn climbed inside her car and turned the key. It flickered to life, sputtered, and then quickly died. Surprised, she tried again, with the same results. She hadn’t left her lights on that morning, she was sure of that. Her vehicle had recently been serviced. She tried once more, and this time the engine did nothing more than cough and choke.

“No, please, no,” Brynn murmured, and pressed her forehead against the steering wheel. Trouble with her car was the last thing she needed.

Hannah shouldn’t be this eager to see Joshua again, but she was. Again and again her gaze drifted toward the deli’s front door as she waited impatiently for the man she’d met at Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.

Her heart pounded like a race car piston every time she thought about Joshua. He’d been so gentle and caring. So considerate.

Although they’d only just met, they hadn’t lacked for conversation. Joshua was the kind of man she could talk to for hours on end. Generally Hannah found herself tongue-tied and uneasy around men, but not with Joshua. It was as if they’d been friends for a long time.

Friends.

The word comforted her and eased her conscience.

Carl had joined her family for Thanksgiving dinner, and afterward he’d sat in the living room with her father. The two men had talked far into the evening, debating political issues and other matters. Before he’d left, Hannah’s parents had discreetly left the room, affording her time alone with her beau. At first Carl and Hannah had seemed awkward with each other, Carl as much as she.

In an effort to ease the discomfort, she apologized for having lost him while at the parade. Carl reminded her that he felt responsible for her safety and suggested that in the years to come they’d watch the parade on television.

Hannah had lowered her head to hide her disappointment. Then, almost as if it were expected of him, Carl had leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers.

It was a sweet kiss, undemanding and totally lacking in passion.

Standing in the deli, Hannah closed her eyes and tried to dredge up some emotion, some deep feelings for Carl. But try as she might, she felt nothing. Surely not desire. Definitely no compelling yearning for his company. He was Carl, the rabbi’s son. The man her parents felt would make her the perfect husband.

“Hannah,” her mother admonished, coming out of the kitchen. Her arms were loaded with a tray of sliced bread. “Are you ill?”

“No, Mama.”

“Then why do you stand there with your eyes closed? We have customers.”

“I’m sorry.” And Hannah was. She didn’t know what was wrong with her to dawdle when there was work to be done.

Her mother peeled off a list of lunch orders from the fax machine, smoothed them out on the counter, and went about assembling sandwiches with a skill and dexterity that spoke of many years’ experience.

Hannah lent a hand, packing the orders into plain brown bags and marking each one. The scent of freshly baked bread spilled out of the kitchen and into the front of the deli, mingling with those of sliced pastrami and knishes, her father’s specialties.

After a few minutes, Hannah tried again. “Mama, tell me how you met Dad.”

Ruth Morganstern slowly lifted her eyes to Hannah. She appeared surprised by the question. “I don’t have time for such foolishness now.”

Disappointed, Hannah said nothing.

“We have orders and you’re asking me about your father and me?” She laughed lightly. “It was so many years ago now. For over forty years I’ve loved this man. I don’t remember when we met.”

“You don’t remember?” David shouted from the far side of the deli. “Forty-three years and you don’t remember? What kind of wife forgets the day she met the man who would be her husband?”

Ruth laughed and dismissed him with a wave. “I remember some things.”

“I should hope to God you do.”

“He was handsome,” Hannah’s mother said out of the corner of her mouth.

“I’m still handsome.”

“More so then,” Ruth added, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Your mother was even more beautiful than she is now,” Hannah’s father called back. “I’d look at her and forget all about slicing meat. The time I courted her I nearly lost two fingers.”

Hannah laughed, delighted at the exchange between her parents. It seemed the lunch crowd, pressed against the glass display case, lost their impatience, and there were shared smiles all around.

Her father handed a thick pastrami sandwich on a paper plate to a young businessman. “You’ll have to excuse my daughter,” he said under his breath, but loudly enough for Hannah to hear. “She’s in love.”

In love? This was news to Hannah. But then, if she were to marry Carl, it was implied that they cared deeply for each other. Hannah liked Carl, respected him. He was a good, honorable man and, according to her parents, a fine catch.

Her mother couldn’t have been more pleased when Hannah first started dating Carl. A rabbi’s son. In Ruth’s eyes, Carl was a better catch than a doctor or even an attorney.

An attorney. Automatically Hannah’s thoughts drifted back to Joshua, although he’d never been far from her mind since they’d met.

“Here,” Ruth said, handing Hannah the bag loaded with faxed orders. “With your head full of romance, can I trust you not to confuse these orders?” she teased affectionately.