by Jody Sharpe
Gram was relieved to get the letter. We all seemed to feel closure, staring at it. Knowing who my father is has brought a sigh of relief. We know full well by the tone of her letter that Lyla does not want us in her life, albeit the occasional note or card, but somehow it doesn’t hurt anymore.
Ironically, the day we got the letter we had an afternoon reception at Café Nikos for Gram and Tim. There were garlands of flowers, and we ate Mahoney’s Pub’s famed desserts, like their crème de menthe cake. Even Jamie Bond said an almost eloquent toast to his newfound boss and friend, Tim, as we sipped champagne! “Way to go Tim. I mean, Congratulations to the happy couple!” Everyone laughed, for Jamie is surely evolving.”
I look at the antique engagement ring Noah chose just for me. It’s sparkles like the moon on the water. Yes, everything has come together. My life in LA is just a memory, a learning experience. I know now the lemon experiences of life can turn into happy ones, like drinking lemonade on a hot summer day all year long.
And the children? Patrick still likes to draw, though not the impressionist angel masterpieces any longer. He’s a wonderful child who loves school and making new friends. His drawings were the Angel’s calling to all that would listen. Emma Rose is talking and happy, a delight to teach. She loves pictures of angels and butterflies. Elena has posted them around her room, and I found her a butterfly bedspread with an angel pillow. She was thrilled. Does she still see angels? Yes. One day not long ago as we strolled by the stream near her house, she took my hand and pointed. She announced, “Angel loves yellow butterfly!” And for a moment I saw Jeb near where she pointed. As clear as day, he was sitting as if waiting for me like he used to. His golden fur swept up high again in the afternoon breeze. His eyes were full of happiness and then he was gone.
How amazing that no one in the media got wind of Patrick or Emma Rose’s names. And if folks know the story in our fair town, why, they keep it to themselves. That’s always been the way here. It’s one of the reasons everyone seems to stay. Benny’s dad has explained to the press, there will be no interviews until he is over eighteen. The Angel’s Song is played over and over by various musicians from weddings to the White House and to countries all over the world. It’s a piece that is unforgettable, like the sound of rain falling. The notes can help mend a broken heart or awaken a wishful dream.
“We have company, someone’s coming this way, coming fast,” Noah says looking down the beach. The background sound of gentle waves gives way to the voices becoming louder now as we look to the south, but can’t see anyone. Noah points, “They’re coming from the sky!” It’s Hannah holding on to Josh’s hand as he flies her above the beach. His majestic wings shine like iridescent rainbows caught in the moonlight. They are talking and laughing and don’t seem to notice us below.
We stand motionless, not speaking, stunned at the sight. A few moments later, Laurjean and Donnie fly above us. They don’t see us either. Donnie’s giant wings take them aloft and they call back to the next flying angel, Taylor, whose golden wings shine as he sails towards us. “Hurry, let’s catch up to Josh and Hannah,” Laurjean calls back to Taylor. Taylor is holding the hand of his lovely wife Hattie, whose face beams with happiness. They are flying together; a flock of angels looking up now, watching the magnificent shadow on the moon begin its’ journey. Lastly, July and her sister January fly with milky white wings glowing and little Heather Angel in July’s arms. They’re wings are mirrors of each other’s. July looks down and sees us. She laughs and January looks down and sees us too. January waves their hellos as they soar onwards to catch up with the others flying into the night.
We turn to each other, not really believing what we’ve witnessed. “Maggie, tell me what you just saw.”
“Flying angels, Josh, Donnie, Taylor, July, and January holding their spouses hands and July holding her baby. They’re watching the shadow on the moon!”
“Hannah is half angel, just as you thought! This is truly extraordinary, beyond our wildest dreams to see! Look how the dogs are tracking them too. But yet they don’t even bark. It’s as if the dogs have always seen them!”
“Are we dreaming, Noah? How I wish we could catch their hands and fly along.”
“Maggie, I guess we mortals aren’t meant to catch an angel, but only fly with them in our dreams like you did when you came to my window. Maybe Francis will take me flying in a dream one day; I’ll have to ask him. Yet here we are able to witness this…another miracle in real time, but this time we can’t tell anyone, for it’s a gift we’ve been given.” He holds me close and we watch them fly far away now, high above the harbor with glowing crystalline heavenly wings becoming tiny specks in the night sky. They’re disappearing, dimming like candle light one by one.
The shadow of the moon is moving faster now. We marvel how we know angels living as humans in our picturesque seaside town. They can even fly with their loved ones.
And to think a newfound breed of bee has been sighted in Mystic Bay too. Instead of swarming media, there are swarms of entomologists and environmental groups looking in town, in backyards, especially ours for the bee. The entomologists rented rooms above Dear Dogs, Etc. so they can dedicate their entire work now to finding the elusive bee. What will they name it? They surely will find it, GG and Gram predict.
Noah holds me tight and I close my eyes listening to the sound of the waves. “I want to write, Maggie. I want to write about the bees, and the angel sightings and all I’ve learned in Mystic Bay. Indeed, it’s here we both learned life’s most precious lessons…a journey paved by love and angels. And now, I want to tell the story to the world.”
27
June Again Once Upon A Time
We chose to marry a year to the day we first met. The sea winds moved east across the ocean like a caress from heaven. Dog Beach was empty but for our small wedding party and the few onlookers with their salty dogs. Reverend Carlos and all who gathered were barefoot. Everyone wore colors that matched the sunset and rainbow colored sky. My dress, Hannah’s Aunt Helen’s waterfall design, cascaded to a full chiffon skirt at my knees. It was strapless with a lace bodice. Noah, Jason, and Tm wore white pants rolled up and blue Hawaiian shirts. Mabel and Acedro rode GG in a wheel chair on a path made of boards. She wore her favorite purple flowered dress. Gram wore a dress of powder blue, of course. As my maid of honor, Jenny, was delighted to wear the satin pink sheathe Aunt Helen designed as well. Jack and Stella were there too and had the reception all ready for us at the restaurant where all our friends would gather. Tad was in charge of everything. Waiting there would be sour dough bread, vegetarian lasagna, salads, and chocolate cake made with love by Mario and Gor Don.
Tina looked lovely wearing pale yellow lace. Yes, Tina’s secret is out now, at least to the family and close friends. Jason was perplexed at first, but now delighted to have a half brother. And it seemed Phil had a moment or too, but the situation seemed to heal itself just as Francis had predicted. Tina told Noah, “At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. And perhaps it was, for your parents brought you up so well. How can I regret the love you received?” I thought it such a wonderful message for Noah to ponder on later. Lessons learned are gifts to us, aren’t they?
Last Christmas, Francis took Noah’s father, Marshall, to heaven. Noah said he saw his father’s spirit leave with Francis by his side. “Farewell,” his father spoke his last words to him. “I’ll be seeing you!” Noah was able to tell his father he loved him once more. For you see, as he went to his Maker, Marshall, the clever writer, and Noah’s kind father’s brilliant mind was renewed once more.
Mr. B. was near at the wedding, but I only caught a glimpse of him for a moment standing behind Reverend Carlos. His wings gleamed golden in the sunset’s light. His loving face smiled, yet I saw him wipe a tear from his eyes. Yes, angels really do have tears, for he clearly had tears of joy for me. He left again in a whip of light as a white feather floated to the sand. If anyone noticed me pick it up, they didn’t say
. I held it as we took our vows. “Forever be my love,” we said to each other. In the distance I heard the whistling of a tune. Mr. B. would always be near. I knew that as sure as I knew our love for each other.
We’re moon bathing again, sitting on the rooftop of our cozy brown-shingled cottage on majestic Fire Island, watching the sun set over the Long Island sound and the airplanes taking off and landing in a blue and pinkish sky. It’s even more beautiful here than Noah described. The deer roam free, no cars, just quiet rustlings and the sounds of the sea. The people here are friendly. It has the angel vibe feel of our little town, our lovely seaside Mystic Bay.
In the past months, the world has been watching and listening and speaking of angels. Some towns and city folk are changing their lives for the better, doing good works for their fellow man, for the animals and for our good earth. July’s TV show continues to follow the domino effect of kindness in different places around the country.
The artwork is touring the country. There have been children’s sightings of angels in Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Of course, there are skeptics. But will there always be?
Noah and I leave next week for Argentina to meet my father, Aron. He has a wife and son and they are looking forward to meeting me, he told me. What will it be like? I’m not scared, for life has given me a new adventure and Noah will be at my side.
“It’s a gift, a process that will take time as love always shows us,” predicts GG’s ever-escalating wisdom.
Noah reaches for my hand. “Mrs. Greenstreet, can you see those stars coming out one by one now just for us?
“Yes, how I love it here so very much as you knew I would!” His amber eyes catch the last summer eve’s glow.
“Do you think we’ll catch angels flying by us tonight?”
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Do you think they live as humans everywhere in the world, flying at night when no one can see except a few lucky mortals?”
“ Yes, I really do,” says my husband, the man an angel brought to me.
We sit awhile in silence. Then, the breeze is gone and the sky turns to indigo. The sound of the sea calms us as the last sea birds head home. Then I hear it, a welcome surprise.
“Noah, I hear them.”
“What, darling Maggie? Do you hear angel’s wings again? Perhaps they’ve sent us a wedding gift from above.”
“Not angels wings, but something I never thought was possible. I can hear the trees here in Fire Island, just like home in Mystic Bay. I can hear them even above the sound of the waves. Their humming is unique, the rhythm moves with the sea. Noah, I can hear it. They’re whispering our names!”
Stella’s Grandma’s Apple Torte
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Peel and slice apples half way up. 2 to 2 1/2 big apples placed in greased pie pan.
Shake 1 tb each of cinnamon and sugar on top
On the stove, melt ¾ cup butter on low/medium heat
Add ¾ cup sugar and stir.
Add one cup flour and stir.
Turn off heat and add one egg and stir. Take off heat.
Add touch of milk and stir.
Pour over apples.
Bake 350 for 45 minutes. Serve hot or cold with or without ice cream