by Gay N. Lewis
Between coughs and sputters, she gasped. “Ugh. Amargo!”
Sarah drew her eyebrows together. Did the lady speak several languages? Amargo? Spanish for bitter. And why did the brew taste bitter? She’d put enough water in the maker for two cups and added two cups of ground beans into that upper doodad. Shouldn’t that be enough ingredients to make a delicious concoction? What else went in there?
The lady opened the lid to the maker. “Terrible mess.”
How could she have made a disaster with coffee? Oh, why didn’t she remember to make it vanish before the woman came inside the house?
Sarah kept quiet in the ceiling corner while the woman shook her head, closed the lid on the sloppy catastrophe, and returned to the grocery sacks. The lady who insulted her coffee placed the grocery items in the pantry.
“Maria, we’re home!” A man and woman burst through the swinging door from the direction of the living room. Hmmm. This new female must be Beth.
“Hello, Señora Beth.” Maria smiled and nodded toward the gentleman. “Señor Wingate.”
“Hello, Maria. Beth and I were hoping for a hot cup of coffee.”
Maria giggled. “I think you make some already.”
“Why?” Beth raised eyebrows to Maria.
Maria poured a cup and handed it to Beth.
After sipping it, Beth frowned. “Yuck! This is the worst junk I’ve ever tasted.”
Sarah crossed her arms to her chest and thrust her lips into a pout. Another snub to her mixture? Surely there were shoddier drinks on earth than her first attempt at this one.
“Sí, and no filter. Look.” She lifted the lid to expose a mass of wet coffee grinds splattered about the machine’s funnel.
Filter? What kind of a doodad must that be? Sarah blew a quiet breath and puffed her bangs. So much to learn about these creatures’ contraptions.
Beth turned to Mr. Wingate. “This is a bit strange.”
Maria handed him a cup of the liquid.
Tasting it, he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
Beth rotated back to Maria. “I’ll clean up, and we’ll start over.”
“No, no, señora. You talk to Señor Wingate. I’ll bring it.” Maria waved the couple from the kitchen.
“Okay, thanks, but would you make tea instead? After that awful taste, coffee no longer interests me.” Beth reached for a glass from the cabinet, filled it with water, and drank. “There. That’s better.”
Sarah placed a hand on each hip, lifted an eyebrow and one corner of her mouth. Surely the coffee these people sampled couldn’t have tasted that bad.
Once Beth and the gentleman were seated in the living room, Sarah took her place behind Beth. This put her at eye level with Mr. Wingate. With a tea table between them, the man sat across from Beth, her charge in a similar wingback chair. Could he be the man she needed to expose as an imposter—the dude with ulterior motives? The Superiors gave her the job of finding the authentic suitor, and to make sure the lady fell in love with the real deal.
Wingate sat towering and handsome with hair as black as night. Hmmm. Wonder if he used a coloring on it. Men his age usually fostered some gray by now. An expensive suit fit his well-toned physique. Eyes the color of emeralds shimmered with appreciation as he fixed them in Beth’s direction.
“Beth, did I tell you today how gorgeous you look?” Wingate’s lips parted to reveal sparkly, white, well-defined teeth.
With eyes narrowed to gain a precise view, Sarah examined each exposed tooth. Hmmm. Wonder if they’re genuine? At his age, they might be false.
“You did many times, but thank you again.”
Sarah floated to the man’s chair to gaze at Beth. Even while seated, the woman looked tall. The soft silk russet dress she wore outlined a slim body. Curious about her shoes, Sarah glanced through the table’s surface.
Sensible two-inch brown pumps. Poopty doopty! No glamour or excitement on those feet. Placing her finger to her temple, Sarah, through imagination, replaced the boring shoes with strappy chocolate stilettos. Yep, they were a definite improvement. Earth women, regardless of age, should show off fine-looking shoes, right? Wait! Could there be some sort of age limit down here about what mature women were supposed to wear? If so, that explained the dreary heels. In The Heavenlies, no one cared about age limits and fashion—those kinds of worries didn’t exist.
Resuming her scrutiny, Sarah focused on Beth’s hair. Fashioned in a short, straight bob with bangs, it curved under at the jawline and resembled the color of autumn leaves—shades of brown, copper, and red all blended into one becoming color. At least this lady didn’t sport the helmet hairdo she’d seen other women of this age choose. No silver sprinkled in either, but Beth could afford expensive hairdressers.
Dark brown eyes, accented with a touch of russet color on the lids, sparkled back at Bryan. Mascara highlighted thick eyelashes and gave this woman a hint of mystery. Did she have an Irish lineage? Maybe Italian? The dossier didn’t give enough information about the lady. Sarah sighed. Why did the Superiors always leave out details? Guess some things didn’t matter to them.
Maria, carrying a tray, entered the room. “Tea and cake.” After setting the tray on the table, she smiled and walked from the room.
With eyes twinkling with amusement, Beth gazed at Maria’s retreating figure. “Maria has been with me for twenty years, and she’s my friend. Actually she’s more like a sister. But in front of company, she enjoys the pretense of acting merely as a household servant. She calls me señora in public but Beth in private. The dear lady reads too many historical romance novels and pretends I have a title of nobility, and she’s the lady-in-waiting. She also watches too many soap operas.”
“At least you have someone other than yourself in this huge house. Your security system is state-of-the-art, but I feel better, knowing Maria and her husband live here and you aren’t alone.”
Beth nodded. “Maria came to reside here while Grant lived, and she took on the role of a wonder-worker with the kids when they were young. Now that he’s gone and the children are grown, I’m doubly blessed to have her and Carlos. My dear friends have no one but me, and I consider us family. A maid service comes once a week to aid us with the cleaning, and I have a maintenance crew to assist Carlos with repairs. He also oversees the landscaping crew.” A sigh escaped her lips, and a shadow passed over her face. “But this house is still a lot to manage.”
Bryan shuffled in his chair and reached for Beth’s hand. “My offer to help you with these responsibilities is still on the table. We can marry today and I’ll move in tonight.” His cheeks dimpled while crow’s feet surfaced in the corners of his eyes. He chortled. “Or I can list this house on the real-estate market and sell it for you. Either way, your problem is solved.”
Sarah’s brows came together, and her face grew hot. This guy could be the gold digger.
Oh, merciful heavens! How to find out?
CHAPTER THREE
Beth chuckled. “Oh, Bryan, don’t be silly. You know I’m not ready for either venture.”
“Well, I am. When you are agreeable to either one, I’ll be waiting, but I can’t help but hope for marriage. We’d make a fine match.”
“A romantic idea, I must say.” Beth withdrew her hand.
Sarah gave a silent grunt and crossed her arms. The bloke’s remark sounded more like a business proposal to her.
Bryan leaned forward. “We aren’t too old for love, you know.”
With a blush mounting in her face, Beth smiled. “I’ll think about it. Right now, it’s time for you to go. Didn’t you say you have an appointment?”
He gazed at his wristwatch and uttered a dramatic sigh. “Yes. Thanks for the reminder. You see? I need you.”
Beth rose and escorted him to the door.
“Would you care to join me for dinner tomorrow night?”
“No, Bryan, I’m sorry. I have plans.”
“Okay, then, I’ll call you soon.” He touched Beth’s shoulder
and gazed down at her as if he wanted to say more but changed his mind. “Later, sweet lady.”
After closing the door, Beth leaned against it and covered her face with her hand.
Sarah floated to the ceiling and waited. So much to learn about this human’s situation. Well, she found out at this encounter that Beth didn’t live here alone, but why did the Superiors enjoy giving riddles? Why didn’t they just put in the dossier that this household sheltered three people? Marie would have been no surprise. Poopty doopty! No real useful information seemed to be in the file. Why couldn’t they merely say, “Do this” or “Do that while you’re down there”? Oh, yeah, free will, that’s why. Leaving choices to their heavenly agents just as they did with their humans.
Maria glided into the room. “Señor Wingate gone?”
“Yes, Maria. For some reason, he makes me nervous—I’m just not sure why.”
“He pressures you, sí?”
“Yes, I guess that’s what it is about him. This dating world is new to me. I’m having second thoughts about it.”
“The gentlemen like you.” Maria gathered tea implements as she spoke.
“Yes, well, maybe and maybe not. How do I know it’s me they prefer—or my money?”
“Señor Padre will let you know.”
“So far, God hasn’t given me any direction. Any messages while I was out?”
“Señor Chadwick phoned aqui, and then Señor Browning rang the doorbell later.”
“What did he want?”
“He no say.”
“Bruce Browning’s pastoral responsibilities require many administrative duties. He probably wanted me to serve on some church committee. At least he isn’t interested in me personally. This is a ridiculous situation with Bryan and Charles. I’m going to tell those guys to bug off and leave me alone.”
“You no like them?”
Beth threw up her hands. “Yes, I enjoy their attention, but they expect more than I want to give. If I were a young woman, I might enjoy all this attention, but at my age? I really don’t. I’m discovering I’m more of a one-man woman.”
“After Señor Grant go to heaven, many call, but you turn them down.”
“There you go. See what I mean? To me it was obvious they wanted a wife, but I truly wasn’t ready for another husband.”
“And now?”
Maria led the way into the kitchen as she spoke. Beth followed and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. Sarah floated into the room, invisible to the humans, and remained above the women.
“It is time to change a few things. When I decided to explore the possibility of male friendships, I wasn’t thinking of marriage—only companionship. I’m also considering downsizing from this estate. We don’t need this gigantic house anymore, and I think we’d be comfortable in something smaller, don’t you?”
“Si, Beth, but no consider me. If you marry, Carlos and I live in other place.”
Beth quickly moved to Maria’s side and placed her arm around her. “Don’t talk nonsense. You, Carlos, and I are a package. Where I go, you go. Marriage or relocation, you two are with me. It’s a done deal.”
Sarah grinned as she remembered trouble from the Superiors on past missions for using gaming language. They didn’t understand how humans used words such as deal, wager, or bet to emphasize something other than a gambling situation.
Maria’s eyes glistened. “A new husband might say no. Carlos and I be in the way.”
“If any man feels like that, I’ll send him packing.”
Sniffing, Maria turned to the sink. “We see.”
Beth returned to the chair. “Did Charles mention what he wanted when he phoned?”
“Señor Chadwick say the board meeting at seven o’clock tomorrow night, and he pick you up at six-thirty. After meeting, go to late supper.”
Beth rubbed her chin. “I’ll meet with the board, but he can bring me home afterward.”
“I make chicken enchiladas for tonight.” Maria stooped to place an oblong dish into the oven.
“Sounds good. Did you figure out who made the coffee?”
Maria shook her head. “Guess it was evil goblin.”
Sarah placed hands on hips and glared. Angels weren’t goblins—and God would never send an evil spirit to help the humans. A loud snort escaped her lips.
“Did you sneeze, Maria?”
Maria rotated her frame to gaze at Beth. “No. It’s a goblin. They make loud noise.”
Waving her hand, Beth dismissed the idea. “Don’t be silly. It was probably the wind blowing down the extraction vent over the cooktop.”
Maria turned to peer out the window. “No wind.”
Sarah twirled three fingers in the air and created a gust to blow gently through the trees and bushes, and then rattle the window.
Joining Maria, Beth laughed. “See? There is a breeze blowing. That explains it.”
With a dubious expression, Maria shrugged.
Sarah held her breath. When would she remember angels could be heard even if they weren’t seen? Merciful heavens. On her first mission to earth, the earthlings attributed the noises coming from their roof to squirrels. Probably a good idea to get out of here and go sit on top of the house. If she made any racket up there, at least the ladies might decide the wind or animals made the sound.
Rising to the utmost gable, Sarah sat cross-legged on the tile roofing and cupped her chin with both hands. Why couldn’t other angels have comparable blunders with their charges? Did she need to be the only forgetful angel to come from The Heavenlies? Her brain chose the most inconvenient moments to freeze and perform absentmindedly—why, for heaven’s sake? Why couldn’t she stop the goof-ups? What element kept her from growing into maturity? With a face growing hot in spite of the cold air, Sarah knotted her fists.
A low reverberation rolled across the sky. “Anger is forbidden, and so is self-pity.”
The rumble would sound similar to thunder to all below, but to Sarah, the voice of the Lieutenant came in loud and clear.
With eyes turned heavenward, Sarah mouthed a prayer, asking for forgiveness.
A ray of sunlight penetrated the gray skies and fingered its way down to encompass her.
“Thanks for the absolution. If it’s okay with You, I’ll go peek in on Bryan now.”
The sunbeam grew brighter and then slowly faded.
* * *
From the notations in the file, Sarah knew Bryan Wingate’s real estate office sat in the middle of a busy shopping center. The map the Commander had provided showed locations relative to Beth, and Sarah felt relief as well as satisfaction for finding the place. She drifted unseen into the vestibule to inspect the spaces. Two women busied themselves at the front desk.
Sarah floated to the back offices. The cubicles looked elaborate enough to impress clients. At the end of the hall, she found Bryan.
Sitting with his back to the door, he held a cell phone in his hand. Sarah wished she’d arrived soon enough to make the conversation two-way.
“I spent the morning with her today.”
Aha! He spoke to someone about Beth.
“No, I didn’t succeed, but I’m working on it. Give me a bit more time. Beth will come around and we’ll have what we are after. You want to meet me at Tony’s Bar and Grill later in the week? We’ll work out and catch a bite of dinner. Us guys need time to ourselves now and then, and we can talk about our mutual interests.”
So Bryan spoke to a guy. What did they plan for her charge?
After disconnecting, Bryan smiled. He shuffled papers around, filed them, and then stood to leave.
After he vacated the office, Sarah peered into the drawer where he stuffed the documents. None of them featured Beth’s name on them.
Poopty doopty. A dead end. Her gaze rested on the Internet connection. How about trying the computer? After she touched the thingy called a mouse, symbols appeared on the screen.
Oh, my word—how did Bryan navigate this computer gizmo? The Heavenlies of
fered computer classes, but the contraptions down here changed rapidly. New technology required endless study, and Sarah grimaced. Why did she procrastinate so much? Now here she stood—with no clue as to how to manage the scary device.
“Next time those classes are offered, take a refresher course.” Sarah covered her mouth. Not too smart even to whisper in this place. Some person might hear.
The screen provided many of those little icons she’d been introduced to at the last seminar, but which one to try? Moving the mouse gadget, Sarah clicked on an image titled “clients.”
A list of names emerged.
Scrolling down, she found Beth Marsh. Next to the moniker, a column of figures appeared. When Sarah read the statistics estimating the woman’s net worth, she felt her eyes grow wide. Amazing! This lady could finance a third-world country.
No wonder so many men pursued her.
And only one could be the gentleman who wouldn’t care about the fortune. A certain worthy man would love Beth and not her money.
How in the world could she find out which one God intended for Beth?
Could Wingate be the dude?
Hearing voices coming down the hallway, Sarah grew panicky. Which tiny image on the screen would turn this doodad off? Frantically she clicked on several little pictures. The display went blank, but a whirring sound suddenly invaded the space.
Oh no! Pages were spitting from a gismo with a gigantic mouth sitting near the desk. What did she do this time? The computer screen went blank—the spreadsheet disappeared, but where could the button be to stop that thingamajig?
The women from the front desk came into the office.
The shorter one strode quickly to a black thingumabob sitting on a cabinet near Bryan’s desk.
“Would you look at this?”
The taller lady joined her companion and studied the columns of figures. “Do you think Bryan intended to leave the office before he finished printing all these personal accounts regarding Beth Marsh?”
“I don’t know, but we’d better make sure all these accounts are under lock and key. One fact I’m sure of—Bryan doesn’t want this data getting out to the public.”