To Catch an Angel

by Jody Sharpe

  “Come here, Maggie, cute pj’s. Let’s talk about this. I’m staying till you fall asleep. Can I tuck you in?” My heart pitter pats, seeing him in my bedroom. He smiles and I almost faint again. I get in bed and Noah puts the covers around me. Blue snuggles at my feet and Noah sits next to me. King stays on the floor wagging his tail. He’s never done that. He always stays with GG.

  “All those years I was with Brian, I never told him my mother was Lyla Jasmine. I just told him I didn’t know who my father was. He’s a law clerk now and for some reason decided to find out about my parents. Now he says he has leads on my father. I’m trying to process it all. Brian was never interested in my life. Why start now? I don’t want to know who my father is anymore. My father didn’t know about me or didn’t care.” I close my eyes; Noah puts his arms around me.

  “It’s okay, Maggie. It’ll be all right,” he whispers. My eyes can’t stay open any longer. He asks me a question, but I can’t speak. He stays awhile as I go in and out of sleep. He turns the light off. I feel a kiss on my forehead. Don’t go, I want to shout but can’t.

  9

  The Man I Used To Love

  The sun’s first pale light brightens the horizon as I meet Noah on the road with our dogs. The month of July is spectacular with blue-sky mornings streaked with peach, grey and purple hues. A morning star winks from light years away. The moon hangs two hundred fifty thousand or so miles away, serene and storybook white. We breathe in the salty air watching the dogs sniffing each other. King finds happiness with his new pack of jogging partners. The paintbrush pastel colors disappear as quickly as they came. We slowly jog towards the tiny harbor, the sun rising over the hills. Noah said he was surprised to see me up and ready to jog with him, but I wanted to tell him how I appreciated his care, how I’m fine. Am I fine? I know I’m adrenaline pumped up from last night.

  “ I don’t want anyone hurting you ever,” he says sincerely.

  We slow jog and King keeps in step with the others. On the way Noah stops to pick up Murphy and Nursie as the little shaggy black and white dogs get tired. He somehow manages two leases and two dogs in his arms. We say our long goodbyes at the entrance to the alley. Knowing I will see him tonight feels like a dream. Noah tells me not to worry, that all will be well. He feels it in his soul. “I’m here, and we’ll figure this all out. Do you want me to be with you when you meet Brian? Just say the word.”

  This wonderful man has come into my life, but it’s all so unreal. Now I must face Brian.

  “Thanks, Noah. I need to handle him myself. I’ll be fine. I plan on telling him never to contact me again.”

  “Okay, just call my cell if you need me, promise?” He kisses me and jogs away with his flock of dogs. I turn to go up the alley but see Mr. Beasley approaching, hearing first his whistle, his hello.

  “Mornin’, Mr. Beasley.”

  “Morning, dear Maggie and King, my boy.” He stops as usual to pet King and we talk about the beautiful sunrise. Seagulls play tag and dive for fish around us, then fly up high in unison to move on to wherever their next catch is. “Have a good day,” he calls as he walks on and begins his tune again.

  Calling Brian’s cell as I’m about to walk into work, he surprises me by asking if I’m okay? This makes my blood boil; yet I agree to meet at The Next Door Café at twelve. What does he know about Polly Ann, about me, about my father?

  By twelve thirty, Brian and I are in the packed restaurant, have each ordered iced tea, and Brian has ordered the special, the giant BLT Stevie bragged about. I’ve insisted I’m not hungry. My stomach churns. I wave to a few people I know. Brian says too loudly, “Look at the guy by the window. He’s eating his sandwich like a squirrel eats nuts!” I turn around to see Andy Walin eating the giant BLT turning it round and round reminiscent of Bubbles, Hannah’s dad’s pet squirrel.

  I turn back to Brian remarking, “Andy sure is one clever sandwich eater.”

  “Weird dude. Just like the rest of your psycho town.” Before I can get a jab in Laurjean swishes by with her hair swept up in her usual colored pen to match her clothes. Today she wears canary yellow pants and shirt and a yellow pen to hold her silvery bun up. Yellow sneakers don her feet.

  “New in town, are we?” She asks him but doesn’t wait for an answer. She slips on by with her iced tea pitcher. She obviously doesn’t remember him as he made landfall in Mystic Bay only a few times over the years, though I brought him here once. Brian wears jeans and a grey shirt and his hair looks like he didn’t try to comb it. I wear my hair in a slicked back ponytail because I know he hates it that way. In fact, I wear my bright orange shirt and jacket. knowing he said once it made me look matronly.

  Looking at him as he apologizes again, I can’t believe I wasted over three years with him. Yet I learned so much about love, about myself, didn’t I?

  “You look good, Maggie, even though I like your hair down. I know I’ve blown it, now that you have that rich dude, Noah what’s his name?”

  He’s being sarcastic. I don’t respond.

  “ Maybe you’ll want to hook up again though after you hear me out.”

  I say nothing.

  Laurjean brings out his sandwich pronto. It’s like she knew he was going to order it. Brian takes a big bite out of his BLT. I remember how I always thought he loved food more than me. He wipes his mouth on the napkin and looks at me with a hint of elation. He handles the manila envelope he brought.

  “Okay, now I’ve got to tell you about your mother, Lyla Jasmine, aka Polly Ann Malone. All the info I’ve got is in this envelope. She went to UCLA, right, the years eighty-two and three? I had her tailed for weeks by this PI I know. He logged her cell records. It’s against the law, but I did it for you. She’s obsessed with her fourth husband, Sid Wasserman, and some other men. It’s pretty pathetic…three of the guys went to UCLA the same years she did. But the big news is she had a call from your boss, Jack Benfield, and met him for lunch last week in Riverton at the Paradisio Hotel Patio. Their heads were together whispering. He left in a huff after he slapped money for the check on the table. Here’s their photo.”

  Brian takes his phone out and shows me the unbelievable truth. Jack and my mother are sitting in a booth with heads bent forward talking. She looks stunning with her long blonde streaked hair, beautiful face, and a white blouse and jeans. Jack looks angry. My feet feel glued to the tile floor.

  My mouth opens, but I can’t speak. The ice in my tea is melting and I’m melting in my chair. Brian has actually found out about the men in her life. One is Jack Benfield, Jenny’s dad, close friend of our family. That’s impossible! Jack and Stella are happy, been together for years. Jenny and I are a month apart in age. No one ever said anything about there being a connection. Gram would know about this, surely. My concentration leaves me. My hands go to my face, covering my mouth.

  “Maggie, say something.” Brian downs his sandwich but keeps his eyes on me. With a mouth too full of sandwich, he continues, “Jack Benfield looks like you a little; you know, that dark hair and all. Hey, Jenny’s mom is a blond, right? Hey, she could be your real sister! It’s a chance he’s your dad since why would he have a tête-à-tête with her like that? And the other guys? I think she has affairs with old boyfriends; it’s all in the file I made for you.” He looks smug, still eating. “Jack didn’t hug your mother at the restaurant. He looked pissed the whole time, the PI said. And your real birth records only say father unknown. That’s weird, Maggie. We never talked about this stuff; you kept it to yourself.”

  Brian looks ugly to me now. How could I ever have been attracted to a man that would just blurt out such sensitive information without even asking my permission? I have to think about this. My heart is racing, and I’m incredibly light-headed again.

  Amazingly, Mr. Beasley is by my side, his hand on my shoulder. “Everything okay, Maggie?” I look up at his face, his tall stature, his white mustache and red-orange glasses, and almost shout. “My old boyfriend here is messing in my life.
I want him to stop!”

  Getting up abruptly, Brian announces, “Forget it. I’m leaving. Really you don’t get it, do you, Maggie? I did this for you! ”

  He ignores Mr. B, slaps a twenty on the table mirroring Jack Benfield in his report and goes, leaving the envelope in front of me.

  Mr. Beasley leans down and says, “It’ll be okay, Maggie. I’m sorry if I scared him away.”

  “No, thank you for coming over. I didn’t see you. ” He smiles and we say goodbye and I sit there alone.

  Laurjean comes over. “ Honey, bring that Noah back here and lose that other guy okay? I brought his old sandwich out fast so he’d speed up and go. Jerk old boyfriends need to amscray. You know what that means?” I shake my head no. “It means scram.” She hugs me and I leave with a quiet thank you.

  Laurjean must have remembered him but acted like she didn’t. She just might be psychic herself. As I walk out the door to head for Hannah’s and the meeting, it begins to rain. Clouds burst, the light rain swirls with the wind. I didn’t even notice the change in the weather. I curl up my jacket collar. My stomach churns knots as I run across Main Street towards Hannah’s store, the manila envelope tightly carried under my jacket.

  10

  The Wind, The Awakening

  “Hey Taylor,” I say to Hannah’s great friend and business partner composing myself. “How are you?” I shut the door as tightly as I can with the wind and notice how Jesse, the store’s resident cat, stares at me from her perch in the family’s pink and green store window of Dear Dogs, Etc.

  Taylor Msumba is a tall good-looking man from Batswana with skin rich like coffee and eyes that seem to sparkle even more than ever today. “Maggie Joy, it’s a real joy to see you back home to stay. Welcome back.” He gives me a quick hug and a little laugh. “Did you hear that Hattie and I are adopting another little girl? We are going to name her Joy. What do you think of that?”

  “Taylor, that’s terrific news. I would love that. I do love the name, of course. Congratulations!”

  “Thank you so much.” A customer walks in and so he says, “ I think they’re all over there now for the meeting. Helen’s promised me cinnamon rolls for keeping the shop going, so make sure she saves one.”

  He smiles and then I hear it…a rustle like wings of a large bird. I look around… nothing. I look at him and he smiles. His eyes shine like deep brown stars mixed with golden light; his face has a glow to it I’ve never noticed. There’s a pale pink aura around him now. I shake my head. What’s wrong with me? I mutter a “thanks” and “see you later with that cinnamon roll,” and head for the back door, out to the alley where everyone parks their cars, and across the yard to Hannah’s house.

  I take my shoes off at the back door. The smell of cinnamon rolls wafts in the air as I walk in. Hannah’s endearing Aunt Helen and the lovely Sharon Manual are playing with the kids at the kitchen table. There’s Emma Rose, Patrick and the ginger twins, Kate and Gabe, who sit in high chairs. The pink retro kitchen is a favorite of mine, mid-century, so classic. The family dogs and their pet deer, Dawn, lie on dog beds and a white cat sits on top of the fridge. I hug the ladies, then stoop down and hug Emma Rose, who’s eating her roll. She says nothing. But as I hug Patrick, he announces with a mouth full, “Maggie, sing.”

  Helen says, “My, isn’t that grand? He wants you to sing.” Sharon nods. “These children are our miracles now. They’re both talking!”

  “Oh, Maggie,” Helen announces, picking up a plate of rolls, “Jenny’s asked me to make your maid of honor dress if that’s okay with you. I can’t wait to shop for fabric. You know I love pink so much, and to sew for you would be a treat.”

  “Thank you. How nice of you,” I say back…back to present, thinking of the wedding and not all my problems.

  “Maggie, sing,” Patrick repeats, standing this time, his hands trying to wrap around my waist. “I will later, okay?” I ruffle his hair. As I go into the living room, I say to Helen, “Don’t forget Taylor’s cinnamon roll; he’s dreaming of it.” She smiles and winks, “I made him a dozen.” She starts humming. Maybe I’ll fix her up with Mr. Beasley. What a duet that would be.

  The room is full of conversation as I greet everyone. Stella and Jack sit on the couch with Bette talking to Guy who sits on the floor. Hannah and Josh are standing talking to July North and a woman who looks like her twin. She must be January, her sister. July sits in a wingback holding her baby daughter, Heather Angel. Since Hannah’s book came out, there have been many little girls born in the last two years whose names have included Angel. Taylor and Hattie’s one-year-old daughter’s name is Michelle Angel. Mayor Willie Walin sits in a wingback also and Hannah’s dad Gabe sits on another chair. He plays Santa every year at the different charity events for kids in the nearby towns and looks like he really could be Kris Cringle. He dresses up Dawn, the fawn, as Rudolph. Of course, this lively older man has his funny pet squirrel, Bubbles, perched on his shoulder. She chatters loudly, eyeing the rolls. He gives her a crumb and she almost grins. Bubbles decides to go rogue and sees a piece of cinnamon roll drop to the floor from Willie’s fingers. She grabs it and runs under Gabe’s chair and twirls it round and round. It makes me laugh cause’ it reminds me of Andy at the café. Helen is offering iced tea and coffee placed on the dining room table. Out of the blue, I hear the sound again, rustles of wings. Looking around the room for a bird or the source of the noise, I see nothing. The sound stops abruptly as it came.

  When I meet July North, I’m amazed at her composure, her friendly manner. She doesn’t seem like a celebrity at all. Her brunette hair shines and she wears a bright orange sweater just the color of my jacket. Her eyes have an amazing starry sparkle. And she has an aura too. Hers is reddish purple, so beautiful. January looks like July, especially her deep brown eyes that sparkle like her sister’s. Her aura is blue like her sweater. What on earth is happening to me?

  Mayor Willie begins as everyone settles down with coffee or drinks in hand. “We’ve called this second meeting with some new faces, Hannah, Gabe, Josh, January and July who we’ve brought up to date. Thank you for sharing your home with us, Gabe, Hannah and Josh. We welcome you, January and July. We are the planning committee now. What are we planning, you ask? Well, July and I have ideas. We know we must have an action plan for these incredible angel sightings. Elena can’t be here today because of work, but we will keep her abreast of what we decide. Madam Norma and Miss Marilyn send their regrets, but Maggie and Jack will tell us the progress with Elena’s ex–husband, Jamie Bond. Now, let’s get started. Maggie, tell us how it went with Jamie and Madam Norma’s ingenious intervention.”

  I sigh, composing myself, knowing many psychic abilities fill the room. Gabe and Willie are intuitive and the others are used to it. I wonder about January and July but know they are keenly aware of the town’s reputation.

  “Well, my great-grandmother and grandmother were amazing, really. The séance and power of suggestion seemed to work for the moment. Jamie agreed not to say anything to the press but does want to have the money put into his new bank account every two weeks as GG suggested until he finds work and is stable financially. We just don’t know how long the hypnosis will work. He left pretty scared since GG told him an eight foot angel would fly my dog King to come live with him if he said anything to the press.” Everyone laughs.

  “That part was right out of a comedy skit. But we really don’t know if it worked; the power of suggestion could tank or stay.”

  Everyone thinks Gram and GG are remarkable and a discussion starts about it. Jack interjects about the bank account he’s in charge of, but my mind wanders. I look over at him, this teddy bear of a kind man, wondering why he would meet with my mother, what possible reason would he have? Could he be my biological father? His hair and skin sort of match my own, but I don’t see any resemblance. I must be staring at him because he looks and smiles at me.

  Jack agrees, “Yes, everyone. Apparently, Jamie Bond is a little shaken over this
, like a martini. Please tell Madam Norma and Marilyn how we all appreciate the theatrics. And he is taking the money out though Elena says she hasn’t seen or heard from him since he left Madam Norma’s Parlor. He’s the fly in the ointment. It may be nothing to worry about. I mean, he may not seem credible to anyone in the press. But we do need a plan and soon.”

  “Tell them now,” Stella whispers putting her hand on his. I get goose bumps.

  Jack takes a painting out of the folder. “Patrick picked up Bette’s paints and this is what he painted yesterday.” Three angels of different ethnicities, two female and one male grace the pastel canvas. They are singing, mouths forming an O. They are wearing robes of luminous white. The background is of the stars, indigo night, and a crescent moon. It reminds me of Van Gough’s “The Starry Night.”

  “Maggie, Patrick says the angels told him you must sing for the world.” His eyes fill with tears, as do many in the room. I feel stuck to my card table chair. My olive skin should be turning white as snow. Looking again at the magical painting, I think about Patrick painting it with his mother’s paints, on the floor of his house, how he looked up at me, hands clasped around me and told me to sing.

  “Yes, of course but w-where, when, what would I sing?” I stammer, my heart proud and scared at the same time. Jenny and Jason walk in from the kitchen. “Isn’t it wonderful?” she says to me as they both sit on the floor next to me. I nod, still stunned.

  Reverend Carlos Manual stands, “What a beautiful message from the angels, a true miracle! Maggie, everyone in church has always said you have the voice of an angel. The angels must be listening. But we can’t have an announcement at the church. Patrick’s painting is undoubtedly about bringing the world together, all faiths, all people. In the first drawing, the angel held a dog in his arms. It’s a big message for us all and it has to be told in a neutral setting.”