by Jody Sharpe
A man opens the door and I almost drop the pretty basket.
“Hello,” he says kindly. He is gorgeous up close, even with thick black-rimmed glasses. With a beaming smile he says, “You must be Maggie from the restaurant.”
Noah Greenstreet, thirtyish, has dark hair, and jeweled amber eyes. His body looks like that of a Greek god. He wears jeans and a white tee shirt. His smile is perfect. I gulp, can’t speak. He takes off his glasses.
“Can’t see with these, only need them when I write,” he smiles again. “I’m Noah Greenstreet and you are Maggie, aren’t you?”
I’ve seen this guy before, but where? Noah Greenstreet’s eyebrows lift, waiting for an answer.
“Yes, Maggie Malone, that’s me.”
“Have we met before?” He seems perplexed.
“Uh, no, I don’t think so.” That’s all I can say. No doubt I’ve a strange expression on my face. It’s all I’ve got. Then I hear an older man’s voice.
“Who’s at the door, Josephine darling?”
Noah’s expression changes to a sad one.
“Dad, it’s a young lady bringing us an apple torte.” He turns back to me with a smile that could light up a gloomy night.
“You have no idea how addicted to apple tortes my Dad and I are now. Stella and Jack are spoiling us rotten. Thank you for bringing it, Maggie.”
Four dogs rush up from the hall but all stop short when Noah commands them. One large shepherd mix, two of them small, and one is a beautiful Yellow Lab. They wag their tails then sit down as if trained by an expert.
“They won’t hurt you. I’ve rescued three in the year I’ve lived here. That’s Smarty, Dad’s Lab he rescued a couple of years ago. The others are Shadow, Murphy and Nursie. She’s little but she’s the nurse to them all. I brought them home a few months ago. Hannah and Josh Ryder found them abandoned in a warehouse in San Francisco. Look at these guys!” He pets Smarty, then looks at me and I hand him the basket.
Shadow is a cuddly and looks like King. Murphy and Nursie are darling smaller black and white mixes.
“Pretty dogs,” I say almost tongue-tied, imitating the whistling man I met this morning on the walk.
“Well, no one has ever said that.” Noah laughs again. “They bring lots of joy. Hey, by any chance, is Joy your middle name?”
My mouth wants to move but can’t for a moment, then I blurt out, “Yes, how did you know that?”
“I’m sorry. I’m a little psychic or I’ve got some psychicness, I call it. I’ve had it all my life and it’s escalated a bit since I moved here to help Dad. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Noah looks worried.
“Oh, I don’t mind. Lots of people are psychics here, you know.” There is a short pause and since I’m unsettled because he knew my middle name I blurt out, “ Well, my grandmother and great-grandmother give their regards to your father. He interviewed them back when he wrote One Psychic Summer. They’re, you know, psychic too.”
Noah seems surprised. “ Wow, how nice. Please tell them hello. I’d love to meet them sometime.”
“ Well, I better go.” I turn to leave, turning the wrong way away from the car.
“Oops,” I smile and turn the right way…stuck…want to leave but wait for him to say something again.
“Thank you, Maggie. I’d invite you in, but Dad’s kind of a handful today. His caregivers have the day off, but please thank the Benfield’s for me. Tell Stella and Jack I will be down soon to get dinner for Dad and me. You’re all pretty special here in this town. No wonder my parents moved here. And you, Maggie, are especially sweet to bring it today with your busy schedule.”
“You’re welcome.” I head for the car, almost tripping on nothing. As I get in, Noah and the dogs are still at the door watching me. I smile and give a quick wave. Looking in the rear view mirror I see Noah’s waving too. Oh God, why do I always get nervous around good-looking men? It was like that with Brian; I was never my true self. He didn’t like my hinting I had psychic abilities too. He thought Gram and GG were strange and the town was off-kilter. “Psycho,” he said. What did I see in him anyway? Maybe I was escaping my past, leaving for LA, away from the town where my mother grew up. But I moved to LA and she lived there too. A psychologist might have a few deductions about that. Maybe I should make an appointment with one? Living there chasing the dream of him was a learning experience. Now being back home brings me joy again. Joy! Noah knew my name was Joy and he knew I had a busy schedule? Amazing!
I drive out the driveway down Bluff Road, thinking about his dad’s psychic character, Connor Diamond, in the series Gram talks about. I never read the books. I don’t remember where I met Noah Greenstreet but I hope he didn’t guess what I was thinking. Our paths must have crossed. His face is too familiar. His smile is a smile I’ve seen somewhere. He even asked me if we’d met. I rack my brain, but the memory wouldn’t come. He’s one good-looking man, Mr. Noah Greenstreet, jogger, animal lover, and psychic.
3
An Angel And A Rose
“Thank you, Maggie,” the dark-haired beauty Elena Torres says, getting into her car. “I don’t know what I’d do without you or Sharon Manuel helping me like this.”
“It’s my pleasure, Elena. She’ll be fine with me today. She seemed to take to me right away. We are going for a picnic, aren’t we?” Emma Rose nods. Thankfully she’s not afraid meeting me the first time. She knows I will be her new teacher and she has taken my hand. After waving Elena goodbye, my little five year old charge and I look down at her orange cat, Princess, winding herself around Emma Rose’s legs. “Sweet little cat you have,” I say. Emma Rose smiles; her dark hair is in a ponytail like mine and her smile is heavenly.
“Want to have a picnic?” Elena prepared a little basket of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut out in the shape of hearts, little fruit drink boxes, and sliced apples. She nods, so off we go. Elena rents Stella and Jack’s house on Meadowbrook Lane off Sea Breeze Drive, just before the acres of bigger ranches and farms. Behind each small ranch house on the street are deep back yards with a sliver of a stream running through. It’s beautiful now with the leaves moving in a light breeze, shining in the afternoon sun, and the cool summer air just right for a walk. The trees hum low; their perfect reflections look back at us from the water. The flowers dance in the wind just like Emma Rose’s eyes. I set out the small plastic tablecloth I brought. As we sit down, I take the picnic things out. Emma Rose is delighted as she takes a few bites. Famished, I almost swallow mine whole. I keep thinking about Noah but know I have to concentrate on Emma Rose.
There is a little brass plaque at the edge of the property on the path to the stream. I’ve seen its saying before and it’s a favorite of mine so I read it to Emma Rose.
A Kiss from the sun for pardon
The song of the bird for mirth
One’s nearer to God in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth
I talk awhile as we eat, telling her about the birds that fly by, the bubbling brook and pretty trees, and about school in a few months, and how much fun we’ll have with Patrick and the other kids. We finish our little lunch and I pack it up. As we get up, I see him about twenty feet away. I drop the picnic things on the ground and rub my eyes. It’s Jeb, my golden dog, sitting, panting just like he used to while he waited for me to take our walks. He’s young again, a happy glint in his brown eyes as real as day. Stunned, I can’t say anything. Then he turns and moves east up along the stream. In silence I take Emma Rose’s hand and we follow. Then in a flash he disappears. I can hardly breathe for I’ve just seen the spirit of my beloved dog. Emma Rose points. Did she see him too? No, she’s pointing to a black bird on the path, a dead bird. We walk up to it, but something strange happens. The bird moves, lifting up as if someone is holding it and with each second it begins to stretch its wings, becoming more alive. Then, as if tossed gently in the air, it flies away.
Emma Rose points again. “Angel,” she says with a smile. I turn to look at he
r and get down on my knees to her eye level.
“What did you say?” She doesn’t speak again.
“Did you say angel?”
She is still pointing, nodding and smiling at the sky where the bird flew away.
“Did you see a dog?”
She shakes her head no. How can this be? I turn around and stand up. Am I daydreaming? Did I really see Jeb? The angel in my dream said Jeb’s spirit would come with me to Mystic Bay. But did Emma Rose actually see an angel save a fallen bird? Jeb has been dead for months and Emma Rose, the little girl with Down’s Syndrome, has always been mute.”
4
Angels Calling
It’s way after midnight when I return home. King is lying on his dog bed beside GG’s brass bed. He lies beside her each night, and it’s a beautiful thing. I look in on Gram. She’s in her powder blue bedroom with the light still on, the book she’s reading on her chest, her glasses still on her nose. Cookie snuggles next to her, her head on the other pillow. I gently take her glasses, placing the book on the nightstand. It’s an older novel, Diamond’s Fury, by Marshall Greenstreet. I turn out the light. She doesn’t stir. I make sure the nightlight is on in the bathroom then head out in to the chilly night to lie on the chaise and watch the moon glow. The swirling clouds with the moon behind them light the star-filled chilly night. King comes out the doggie door to be with me till I go upstairs myself. He does this every night. Then back he goes to be with GG.
“How was your day, boy? Did you help Gram and GG with their psychic readings?”
Of course he doesn’t answer. How I wish he could.
“Can you see angels?” King sits and puts his left paw up for shaking.
“Good boy, you’re a southpaw just like me.” I shake his paw and rub behind his ears. I review the astonishing day and tell King all about it.
“Noah Greenstreet, a handsome and psychic man, asked me if we’d met before. How surreal, but where? College? LA? Did he grow up here? No, I’d remember that. I do remember him too…it’s so weird, King. And today, did Emma Rose see an angel or just a sick bird regain strength, then fly away? Elena told me she’s never spoken a word, but I swear she said ‘Angel.’ And was Jeb by the stream? What’s happening to me? ”
I close my eyes. King puts his head on my lap. Not alarming Elena was my priority; should I tell her? What if I was hallucinating, hoping to see Jeb, thinking of angels? Yawning, I announce to my companion, “It’s time to say goodnight to God and the moon.”
King and I walk back in the house and he turns to look at me like he did at the whistling man today. “Goodnight boy,” I whisper. I climb the stairs and get ready for bed. Blue, snug on the comforter again, opens one eye and is gone. I get in my bed, exhausted. A long white feather sits on my bedside table. Picking it up, admiring its perfect beauty, I wonder where it came from. Maybe Gram put it there because GG can’t walk up the stairs anymore. Mabel was here today so perhaps she found it. Wrapping around today’s events, I’m trying to make sense of it all. Analyzing it has exhausted me. As Blue purrs next to me, my eyes finally close in prayer. “God, did Jeb lead us to an angel? Did Emma Rose see one?” Fading now, inevitable dreamland comes, taking me away to parts unknown.
Noah is jogging up Beach Road. I’ve waited at my window till I see him pass and jog up towards his home with dogs in tow before King and I set out. Why am I afraid to run into him? July North had a show about daddy-less girls having trouble in relationships with men. With little or no self-esteem, they have to learn self-worth without a father figure. It’s true if I look at my relationship with Brian. I let him walk all over me. We did everything he wanted. I even moved away from the place I loved and needed for my soul, away from Gram and GG who were getting old. They are my mothers and keep me feeling loved, wanted, and valued.
No, I won’t be afraid. Tomorrow, I’ll go out about the time I usually see him. I’ll have more confidence. “Right Blue?” Blue looks at me with crossed-eyed interest. As I finish getting on my jogging clothes, I whisper a song for him he likes, an old song Gram and GG sing around the house. Tiptoeing down the stairs with Blue carefully stepping down each step in anticipation of his breakfast, I arrive in the kitchen to get the coffee brewing since no one is stirring. When King and I go out to the yard I almost stumble. Clearly, I have to find out what really happened with Emma Rose. Trying to process it all, the angel sighting, and seeing Jeb, I know I must tell Gram and GG about it when they wake up. King and I walk the whole way to Dog Beach. On the way I pass the whistling man again wearing his Mystic Bay cap and tinted glasses. “I love your whistling,” I say to him.
He stops with a big smile. “Why, thank you. I hope you don’t mind a pretty tune, dear.” He takes a moment to bend down to pet King. “Hello again.”
“Excuse me sir, but have we met? I’m Maggie and this is King.”
The man smiles, “Nice to meet you. I’m new in town, name’s Neal Beasley. Well, goodbye, Maggie and King. Have a nice day.” He tips his hat and moves on. King turns to look at him again.
Dog Beach sparkles with life as the various shapes and sizes of dogs leap in the waves and run down the sand. King is partial to big waves and runs right in. I see my high school friend, Hannah and her husband, Josh Ryder and their little darling ginger baby twins in a stroller. “Ginger babies,” GG calls the little red heads, just like their mom. Their dogs and pet deer, Dawn, run in pure delight. Hannah rescued the dwarfed deer when it was a fawn. Hannah and Josh are a beautiful couple. The great thing is they are both such nice people. We say hello and Hannah asks how my move went and when we can get together for lunch. “Anytime, give me a call,” I tell her. She puts my new number into her phone. I notice how Josh and Hannah’s blue eyes sparkle golden like sunshine on the sea.
We say our goodbyes and I watch Josh kiss them all. “Say hello to Madam Norma and Miss Marilyn,” Josh calls as Hannah strolls off to her truck and Josh walks to his vet hospital.
I wave and think that maybe I’ll ask Hannah about seeing angels. Maybe she saw them as a child as Emma Rose did. Perhaps that’s why she wrote the angel stories that Sam Blakley turned into the novel. No, I can’t ask her. It would be unkind to bring it up. It was a painful time for her then, but now her life seems idyllic. She went through tremendous pain as a child when her mother died suddenly in a car accident. “Sadness is just a part of life,” GG always says. “But the blessed parts are what keeps us going.”
How nice to have a family life like Hannah and Josh someday. Maybe I should call Brian. What a pathetic idea. “Forget him,” my mind yells. King comes back when I call him, as happy as a clam, another Gram expression.. As we walk home, I look for the man I call whistler. He’s nowhere. I look up Bluff Road for a sign of Noah. How I wish I’d left earlier so I could’ve run into him. We walk home, but Gram and GG are still asleep as I leave for work.
The apple tortes are in full speed now, the last in the oven. I’m cleaning my workspace when Nancy and Edie, the comical owners of the best cleaning service in town, Mystic Maids, come into the kitchen. Greatly excited, with pink vacuum in hand, Nancy says in her husky voice, “There’s a very handsome man here to see you, Maggie.”
Edie almost shouts, “He’s hunk-a-licious. Girl! Go out there now!” She takes her pink plastic-gloved hands and pushes me out into the hall and up to the entryway of the restaurant. I look back and hear the crew whistling and Gor Don cat-calling in the kitchen. Nancy says in a loud voice with dry humor, “What you gotta do to get a man like that? Look like her?” Edie shouts back an elongated version of “Ye-e-s -s.”
Of course, Murphy’s Law or Malone’s Law, there stands Noah Greenstreet in his faded jeans and a forest green tee shirt. He’s more handsome than I remember. I wipe a piece of unruly hair out of my eyes and face. “Hello, Maggie. It’s good to see you again. And if you don’t mind,” Noah takes his fingers and touches my face. I jump back. “I’m sorry, you had flour there.” He laughs, and I wipe my face with my apron.
&nb
sp; “That’s okay, thanks.” I’m embarrassed again.
“I brought your basket back; thank you again.” I nod. Noah hesitates then says, “I’d like to take you to dinner tonight or any night if you’re free. . . unless you’re engaged or something? You’re not, right? My psychicness tells me.”
I’m shocked as I stare at Noah Greenstreet. How did he guess I didn’t have a boyfriend? Maybe it’s written all over my flour-filled face. Should I go out with him? I’ve never gone out with such a gorgeous looking man, let alone a psychic one. I blurt out fast, “No, I’m not, I mean, yes, I’m free tonight. I live at 20 Moon Road; the sign out front says Madam Norma’s Parlor. ” Oh, God, I’m babbling.
Noah’s elated, “Oh, I know the house. Okay, great… tonight? Early? Five okay? I want to take you for a walk down Main Street so you can show me this special town, then we’ll go to the prettiest place I know for dinner.” I nod and he says with a grin, “I’ll look forward to it all day.” Gorgeous, psychic Noah makes me quiver. We say goodbye while I shake like a cavewoman without fur on a wintry day.
I touch my apron, reminiscent of Cinderella going to the ball. What will I wear? The razzing when I get back in the kitchen is loud. “Maggie’s in love,” sings Mario in a pretty convincing fake operatic voice. Nancy and Edie start singing, “She’s In Love With The Boy” as Gor Don takes my hand and turns me around in a two-step twirl.
In a daze when I get home, I tell Gram and GG about the date with Noah and how he’s a psychic too. They are elated, like the chattering mice and birds in Cinderella. At the speed of an elderly bird with a walker, GG goes to find a necklace. Gram insists I wear my turquoise sweater because it goes with my eyes. GG’s Hawaiian pearl necklace is perfect for me to wear. She insists I keep it. Great Grandpa Joe gave it to her on their wedding day.