Some Kind of Angel

by Larson, Shirley

  “I’m aware of the consequences of my actions.”

  “Michael, listen to me. You can’t do this.”

  “I can and I will.”

  “Then I wash my hands of you, Michael.”

  Regret poured over Michael in oceanic waves. He was leaving Gabriel’s protection. Heaven only knew what the Eternal One was thinking. Michael was doing the exact opposite of what he’d been asked to do.

  Michael took a deep breath and stepped inside Leslie’s apartment. “Darling, the door was open so I just thought I’d pop in and see how you are this morning after our night together.” He walked to Leslie and put his arm around her shoulders. He could feel her tension and her pain. “Sweetheart, who is this woman who appears to have such bad manners, showing up at your door so early in the morning without calling?”

  At the sight of his familiarity with Leslie, that good woman slid off the stool and stood up very straight. “I’m Endora Clarke and I…”

  “Yes, you would be,” Michael interrupted her.

  “We were having a private conversation,” Mrs. Clarke said coolly.

  “Let me introduce myself. I am Michael O’Malley, Miss Rutledge’s fiancé. Anything you have to say to her concerns me as well.”

  At this bold statement, Michael wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Leslie, or the good Mrs. Clarke. “Are you aware that she is carrying a child from a liaison with another man?”

  “Quite aware, as it happens. Leslie and I have no secrets from each other.”

  Leslie opened her mouth to protest, but a quick shake of his head made her swallow her words.

  Mrs. Clarke gathered her cloak of self-righteousness around her. “Well, it didn’t take you long to find another man, did it?”

  Michael had had enough. “I do not know what right you think you have to come here and make suggestions about the baby she carries, but your son relinquished any right to Leslie’s child when he told her he wanted nothing to do with her. Therefore, you have even less connection to us. When Leslie and I are married, it will be my name on the child’s birth certificate and I will be the child’s legal father.”

  For a moment, a look crossed the woman’s face as if she were remembering that this child was her first grandchild. The look changed into disgust. “I told him not to take up with a cheap actress, but no, he wouldn’t listen to me. Now he is marrying a very well connected young lady who, like us, is from an old established family here in New York. I don’t want her,” a disdainful look at Leslie, “coming after Adam in a vulgar attempt for child support.”

  Leslie, her cheeks flaming, said, “I never want to see you or your son again. Do you want it in writing?”

  Mrs. Clarke opened her mouth and Michael was quite sure she was going to say yes. He gave her his “look” and she closed her mouth and shook her head. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

  “I will see you to the door,” Michael said in his most polite voice.

  When he had escorted the dragon, as he had come to think of her, out, Leslie did what he knew she would do.

  “Michael, whatever possessed you to say that you and I were getting married?”

  “It seemed like the best thing to do.”

  “I could have gotten rid of her without your help.”

  “Yes, you could have. But what if she engaged a lawyer and put pressure on you in a way you cannot imagine? Her son is the child’s father. This way, you are out of her reach and safe with me.”

  “You don’t mean you’re going through with this charade of an engagement.”

  “No.”

  When Leslie looked relieved, he said, “We do not have time for an engagement. I suggest we marry as soon as possible.”

  “Michael, I hardly know you. And you certainly don’t know me.”

  “No one really knows anyone, Leslie. Everyone has something to hide. Think about it. In another three weeks, it will be Thanksgiving. Your brother wants you to come home. It will be good to arrive with a husband.”

  “No.”

  “No?” He said it gently, but it hurt his heart to have her deny him.

  “I can’t let you throw your life away on me.”

  How ironic since that was exactly what he was doing, but not in the way she meant.

  “I will not be throwing it away. I will be getting it back.”

  “But Michael, we don’t have much to live on. My little salary, which won’t last very long and your work at Moniker’s won’t support the three of us.”

  She was right. He hadn’t thought of money. He’d been a spirit for a hundred years, what did he know of money? He’d need to do something about that and quickly, before his powers left him. He assumed he’d still be in control until the marriage ceremony. Once that happened, he’d be a mortal…a very poor mortal.

  What was this strange feeling he had? Urgency? No. It was worry about money. He’d never felt it before.

  “Leslie, I wonder if you would excuse me. There are things I need to do today.”

  ‘Yes, of course, Michael.”

  Once he returned to his apartment, he found a very stern Gabriel waiting for him there. He’d never seen Gabriel as a human man before. Gabriel was an attractive specimen, just as he himself was. His hair was dark, his skin swarthy, his muscles quite evident.

  “Are you here to chastise me?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “I am here to take you to the council.”

  “What if I refuse to go?”

  “There can be no refusal.”

  He made ready to rise and take Michael’s hand to transform him into his angel entity, when there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for Michael’s permission, Leslie stepped into the room.

  “Michael, I just wanted… Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.” Those bright brown eyes took in Gabriel. She was curious about him.

  In the awkward silence, Michael told himself he needed to keep his wits about him and act as if Gabriel were an old friend.

  “Leslie, I’m glad you came. I’d like to introduce you to Gabriel…Horn. He’s a…long-time friend of mine.”

  Leslie stepped forward and offered Gabriel her hand. “Mr. Horn, I’m really glad to meet you. Has Michael told you about his mad scheme to marry me?”

  “Yes, he has,” Gabriel said soberly.

  “I came to talk him out of it, but perhaps you can do a better job of it, since you’ve known him longer.”

  “I’ll certainly try,” Gabriel said, in the same somber tone.

  “Well, I…” Suddenly, Leslie seemed to be self-conscious of her nightwear. She pulled the belt of her robe around her and tied it tightly. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to it,” she said, and made a quick exit through the door.

  Gabriel turned his stern gaze to Michael. “She’s a charming woman. You aren’t in love with her, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Michael said quickly. “You know that’s not allowed.”

  “Neither is marrying a woman to give her baby a name.”

  “Could we get this visit to the council over with, please? I have a great deal to do in a short amount time. I have to see about making a living.”

  “Once you go up to the council and make your decision known to marry this woman, you will be unable to use your powers to accomplish things.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. “Then I can’t go just yet. You must give me time.”

  Gabriel knew that if he desired, he could put his hand on Michael right now, and it would be all over. Without conjuring up a way to make a living, Michael would not be able to come back. It was the right thing to do. Gabriel reached out his hand to grasp Michael’s arm, but the vision of Leslie’s beautiful face appeared in his mind. He should at least give Michael twenty-four hours. What was a day in an eternal lifetime? Gabriel would have to answer to the council about his failure to bring Michael to them. He would simply have to take the blame. He would be reprimanded, he knew. His shoulders were broad, he could take it.

  “Go then,
and see what arrangements you can make.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel. You are a good friend.”

  “I wonder,” Gabriel murmured, and with a wave of his hand, he floated upward and disappeared. Michael decided time wasn’t on his side and hurried out of the apartment and down the stairs.

  Dressed now in jeans and a t-shirt, I stood out in the hall and knocked on Michael’s door. The door creaked open. “Michael, when are you going to listen to me about locking your door? I wanted to invite you and Gabriel over for coffee and a scone.”

  The apartment was empty. Neither man was there. I scanned the room. How could they possibly have disappeared so quickly? “Michael.” I was a little freaked out. “Michael?”

  The New York City streets were as crowded as ever. Michael strode along, glad for the exercise. It always seemed stuffy and confining in his apartment. His destination was East Village.

  The For Sale sign had not yet appeared in the front window, but with his magic, he knew it soon would. Or perhaps not. If he were successful today, the sign would never appear at all.

  He hadn’t remembered the smell. There was a certain smell to antique things that was tolerable, but this was most unpleasant. The first thing he would have to do would be to install an air cleaner. A big one.

  Two hours later, the deal was done. Bernard looked up from his desk and smoothed his hand through his thinning white hair. “I’m sure you and Leslie will be able to make a success of this place. I’m glad it’s going into good hands like Leslie’s.” Again with the hand on his hair. “There is something I should tell you. I…”

  “Yes?” Michael put on his most beatific smile.

  Bernard shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll find out soon enough, anyway.”

  “What will I find out, Mr. Capperelli?” He waited, standing quietly and still smiling.

  Bernard stood and grasped Michael’s hand, shaking it up and down with vigor. “You got this store at a bargain price.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Don’t you want to know why I was so eager to sell?”

  “Of course, if you wish to tell me.”

  Bernard was perspiring now, and Michael wanted to take pity on him and put him out of his misery. But the man needed to confess the truth. Michael just hoped that he would.

  “I wanted some time with my family before I grow too old to enjoy them.”

  “That is understandable…and most fortuitous for me.”

  Bernard turned to go. Michael sent him the message. Do the right thing.” Capperelli grabbed his hat and coat and had his hand on the doorknob. Michael sent another message. You’ll never feel right about this until you tell me. Bernard turned back. “The reason you got this store at such a bargain price was because…” he swallowed, “a certain crime family has been coercing me to give them money each month.” Bernard stared at Michael with tortured eyes. “For a man, you look so innocent. I couldn’t leave without letting you know. They will expect you to contribute to their coffers just as I did.”

  Michael came to Bernard and put his hand on Bernard’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, telling me this.”

  “I suppose you’ll want me to buy the store back.”

  “Quite the contrary. I look forward to the challenge of dealing with a family of dubious honesty.”

  Bernard shook his head. “You may look innocent, but you’ve got guts, I’ll say that.” He moved as if to go and then stopped. “There is a figurine in the back. A male angel. I always liked that figure. I put it up on the shelf but whenever anyone expressed an interest in it, I told them it was a personal family heirloom and not for sale. I had this crazy idea that it was a good luck omen that kept me safe through my dealings with the Family. You might want to go back and take a look at it. I have a feeling you’re going to need a good luck charm.” Bernard sketched a wave and went out through the door.

  Michael had spoken bravely to Bernard, but as he looked around at what was now his shop, he did not feel so brave. Leslie would be a great help to be sure, and it would be good to have her beside him every day. But if he went up to the council and came down without his powers, he would be a plain, ordinary man. Would he be equal to dealing with a crime family? If the Boss, whoever he was, sent his underlings to threaten him, the police wouldn’t be able to help him. If he could hold the council off for another twenty-four hours…

  In the meantime, he had to go back to Monikers and give his notice. He supposed it was not exactly cricket to tell them he was quitting the next day, but he didn’t have a choice.

  “This is really stupid,” I said, and tossed my pencil down on the script in disgust.

  Marion, who was home getting ready to leave for her performance in Man of La Mancha, said, “What’s stupid, the script?”

  “No. What’s stupid is, I can’t do this without Michael.”

  “So? Go over to his apartment.”

  “I can’t. He’s working at Moniker’s for me.”

  “That man is a saint.”

  Leslie, startled, said, “Why would you say that?”

  “Why? Because he’s like Superman, going around doing good deeds.”

  “That’s the Boy Scouts.”

  “Well, I guess if you can’t work without him,” she waggled her eyebrows in a Groucho Marx move, “you’ll just have to wait until he comes home.” Marian applied more mascara to her eyelashes. “So you’re really not going to marry that gorgeous hunk of man? Now, that’s stupid.”

  “I hardly know him. I can’t ask him to ruin his life to save mine.”

  “Why not? It’s not like you tied him down to the bed and forced him to propose to you. Although if you don’t marry him, I might try that.”

  “You wouldn’t. Michael’s too nice to be bullied that way.”

  “Like I said, he’s a saint.”

  “No man is that perfect. I should know. I had one I thought was perfect and look what happened to me.”

  “It would be the perfect revenge if you did marry Michael. Think of running into Adam into a cocktail party and saying, “Oh, Adam. I’d like you to meet my beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful husband, Michael O’Malley. At which point, Michael carefully sets his drink down on the nearest table and punches Adam squarely in the face.”

  “You have a decided streak of mayhem in you, Marian.”

  “I like to see people get their just dues.” She picked up her purse and did a twirl in her jeans and t-shirt. “How do I look?”

  “In that stage make up of heavy duty mascara and red lipstick? Like a country girl hooker.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Don’t get picked up by the police.”

  “Not to worry. I have a cousin on the force.”

  “You have a cousin darn near everywhere,” I said, trying not to sound envious.

  When Marian was gone and the apartment was quiet, I threw the script down on the breakfast bar and propped my chin on my hand, genuine thinker stuff. Why couldn’t I think? If I didn’t marry Michael, I’d have to stay in New York over Thanksgiving. I didn’t dare go home. The thought was depressing. If there was ever a time I needed to be with my family, it was now, when it seemed the whole world had turned against me. Well, not the whole world. There was Michael, beautiful, kind, Michael. I couldn’t take advantage of the one good man left in the world. I had to set him free from his promise of marriage.

  Chapter Seven

  Michael was in the back hall that served as a cloakroom for the help at Moniker’s, hanging up his apron, when Ned accosted him. “So you’re leaving. What’s the matter? Competition too tough for you?” Ned was four inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter than Michael but that didn’t stop him from showering Michael with his scorn.

  “No,” Michael said quietly. “I bought an antique store and Leslie and I are going into business together.”

  “An antique store?” Ned scoffed. “That’s an excellent way to lose your shirt.”

  “I don’t plan on taking it off.�
�

  “I meant you’ll lose every penny you have. What boat did you arrive on, anyway?”

  “I did not come here on a boat. I came by…air.”

  “I just meant you’re some kind of stupid idiot who doesn’t understand our language.”

  “I understand the English language very well. I have been listening to it for one hun…a very long time.”

  “Not long enough, evidently.”

  “Was there anything else you had to say to me besides mocking my understanding of your vitriolic speech?”

  “Who do you think you are, talking like some jacked up fancy professor from Harvard?”

  Jerome entered the cloakroom and took a step toward Ned. “Back it up, Nedster. Who do you think you are, Al Pacino?”

  “Of course you’d defend this guy.”

  “Just pick up your marbles and go home, okay? Michael’s going to be out of our lives tomorrow. And it’s a damn shame, I say.”

  Michael shrugged into his jacket and turned his back on his erstwhile fellow waiters. “I’ll say goodbye now, gentlemen.” He said the words with a polite bow.

  “Good riddance.” Ned couldn’t resist throwing the final dart.

  In his apartment, Michael kicked off his shoes and sank down on the davenport. Why did mortals keep themselves so bound up in these silly clothes anyway? He went into his minuscule bathroom and stripped to step under his tepid shower. Water must always be a balm to humans. He finished up soaping and rinsing his body and stepped out of the shower to towel himself off when the bathroom door opened.

  Leslie stood on the threshold with a frying pan in her hand, wearing nothing but a shorty nightgown that exposed every inch of her beautiful legs.

  Oh, no. There he stood in all his nude glory, exactly like Marian wanted. He was…beautiful. Ripped abs and lower, a lovely nest of dark hair where his equipment lay. Then there were those long, muscled legs and beautiful feet. Brain, send signal to mouth. Say something. Anything. Except what you’re thinking. “I didn’t hear you come up the stairs. I know you always leave the door unlocked and I thought someone had broken into your apartment.”