Mr. Miracle

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Mr. Miracle Page 9

by Debbie Macomber


  “Carrie,” she said, as though it was a complete shock to see the girl from her high school class. Well, actually, it was a surprise to see her at the door. “Come in, please.” She invited her into the house.

  “Addie, hello. It’s been way too long; you look great.” Carrie’s smile was warm and sincere.

  “You, too,” she managed, and genuinely meant it. She remembered Carrie being a good, caring person, and it wouldn’t surprise her if Erich had maintained their friendship through high school and college.

  “Dave told me about Erich’s accident, and so I brought him some Christmas cookies. He told me you’re looking after him, and I thought I’d just pop over to say hi—it’s been a long time. I hear you are helping so your two mothers can go on a cruise. That’s really thoughtful of you, Addie. How’s he holding up?”

  Before Addie could answer, Carrie continued, “He put on a brave front, but I could see this is difficult for him.”

  It’d be difficult for anyone, but Addie refrained from saying so. “Erich is doing about as well as can be expected,” she said.

  “It’s really kind of you to help him and give your mother and his the opportunity to travel.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” It wasn’t necessary to explain that it’d taken a gentle shove from a barista and a classic-literature instructor to convince her to take on the task. Needless to say, the only reason she’d agreed was for her mother’s sake. She hadn’t exactly gone into this with a pristine attitude.

  “If I’d been thinking, I could have brought Erich chicken soup instead of cookies,” Carrie continued.

  “You’re the thoughtful one,” Addie said. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy the cookies.”

  “I hope so. It’s good to see you, Addie. Erich tells me you’re in school. That’s great. I better get to work or I’ll be late. Merry Christmas,” she said, and started for the door.

  “Merry Christmas,” Addie returned.

  Addie’s spirits lifted as she walked Carrie to the front door and watched her drive away.

  She waited until the visiting nurse had come and gone before she stopped by Erich’s again. It was close enough to noon to think about preparing his lunch. She heated up tomato soup out of a can and brought it over to him, along with a grilled cheese sandwich.

  She knocked once and then let herself into the house. Erich had changed clothes and shaved, or rather been shaved. He looked good, better than she could remember seeing him since the car accident. The swelling had gone down in his eye and the bruises were fading. The color was back in his face and there was a spark in his eyes. No doubt the beautiful Ashley was responsible for that.

  “I see you’ve had a busy morning,” she said, putting on her best candy-striper smile. She didn’t intend to bring up Ashley, but hoped he’d volunteer the information.

  “Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate.

  “I brought your lunch.”

  “So I see.”

  She set the cup and plate down and made a conscious effort not to leap back the way she had earlier. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She stared at him intently, waiting. Nothing.

  He frowned slightly. “What did you do this morning?”

  She couldn’t very well admit she’d been glued to the window, watching his house. “I read.”

  He seemed in a much better mood than earlier. And why not? Most likely his romance with Ashley had shifted to the on-again stage. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him about his visitors, but she refused to do it. No way did she want Erich knowing she’d been watching the house.

  “I’m going out this afternoon,” she told him.

  “Oh?”

  If he wanted to keep secrets, then she could as well. There was no need to tell him she planned to attend the Christmas concert at the community college. Leave him guessing. “I’m meeting a couple guys from my class.” A slight exaggeration. She was bound to run into Danny, who’d mentioned he’d be at the concert. And there was sure to be one or two others attending.

  Some of the sparkle left his eyes. “Will you stop by later, then?”

  She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “If you’d like.”

  “Sure, why not? It gets boring just sitting here for hours on end.”

  He seemed to be making sure she knew he wanted her company only out of sheer desperation. He wasn’t interested in her, which was perfectly fine by Addie, seeing that she had no romantic interest in him, either.

  “See you later,” she said, eager to be on her way.

  “See you,” he called after her.

  Addie couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Once back at her own home, the same restlessness that had plagued her earlier returned. She showered, did a bit more housework, and then drove over to the college. She was an hour early for the concert. With time to kill, she stopped in at the Hub and ordered a latte before she remembered that she’d forgotten to eat lunch. No wonder she was hungry. The barista was the same one she’d spoken to earlier.

  “I was hoping you’d be back,” Celeste said, as Addie slid onto the stool. “What did you decide to do about your neighbor?”

  Addie was reluctant to talk about Erich, but at the same time she needed a sounding board. “I took your advice.”

  “So how’s it going?” The other woman busied herself with brewing the latte while she spoke.

  Addie hesitated and then shrugged. “All right, I guess.”

  “Problems?” she asked, as she set the drink on the counter in front of Addie.

  Taking the cash out of her purse, she considered her answer. She wanted to talk, but wasn’t sure what to say, finally settling on “Not really.”

  Celeste braced her hands against the counter. “Then why do you look like you’ve lost your best friend?”

  “Do I?” She had no clue she was this readable.

  “Is he as disagreeable as you remember?”

  Addie shook her head. “Not really … we actually seem to be getting along. I guess I was more comfortable when I couldn’t stand the sight of him.”

  “Really?” Celeste looked surprised.

  These questions unnerved Addie. “I … don’t know. I’m sort of waiting for him to say something that will bring us back to the way things used to be. I’m more comfortable with that, and I think he is, too.”

  “Change is hard,” the barista commented, as another student approached the stand and placed an order.

  Celeste made a second latte and continued to chat with Addie as she worked. “Isn’t that what Dickens’s story is about?” she asked.

  Addie hadn’t thought of it in that way, but she had to agree. A Christmas Carol was indeed about change. Like her, Scrooge acknowledged the mistakes he’d made and realized he’d been given a second chance. The same way she’d been handed this gift of a second chance with education … and with Erich. She wasn’t the only one, she realized. Danny, who’d served time, had been given a second chance as well, and Andrew Fairfax, the veteran who’d come to class with the service dog named Tommy.

  Addie’s thoughts were full of her short conversation with Celeste as she headed toward the concert hall. She saw Danny going into the building where their classroom was. Out of curiosity, she followed him inside, but once she was through the doors, she didn’t see him. She headed down the hall toward their classroom.

  The janitor was inside, but he didn’t see her as he picked up the garbage can. Instead of emptying it, he rifled through the can and took out a couple of wadded-up pieces of paper and read them.

  Addie scooted back from the doorway, not wanting him to know what she’d seen. She had to wonder what he thought he’d find.

  Addie was standing outside the classroom when Danny exited the men’s room. He saw her and looked surprised.

  “Hi, there! You going to the concert?” she asked.

  “I thought I might. You?”

  “Yeah. Mind if I walk over with you?”

  “Sure thing.” Danny was more than accommodating. �
��Did you finish the reading assignment yet?” he asked.

  She nodded. “You?”

  “Yeah. You kind of have to hate Scrooge. He was a greedy, mean SOB. Making Bob Cratchit work on Christmas.” A thoughtful frown came over him and he lowered his voice and said, “I had a job once.”

  Once being the operative word, Addie realized.

  “I would have worked on Christmas, but they closed the restaurant for the holiday.”

  “What was the job?”

  He shrugged as if to tell her it was no big deal. Although from his body language, she felt it might have been.

  “It was a barbecue place. I bused tables. My crew dissed me when they saw me wearin’ an apron, so I bailed. Big mistake.”

  “We all make mistakes, Danny. Big and small. But you don’t have to let them define you forever. And isn’t that what this book is about?”

  “I thought it was about ghosts. Freaky!”

  “Well, it is about ghosts and a whole lot more, don’t you think?”

  “She’s right,” Harry Mills said, walking up and joining them, heading toward Massey Hall.

  Because she’d been involved in conversation, Addie hadn’t realized anyone was behind them.

  “I’m anxious to hear what you both think in class tomorrow,” Harry said. “It seems like you’re reading the story very thoughtfully.”

  When Addie had signed up for this course she’d been determined to do whatever it took to get through with a passing grade. She hadn’t expected to enjoy it or even learn from it. Yet the novel they were studying was filled with life lessons that seemed to apply directly to her.

  Chapter Ten

  Harry waited until the very last minute to enter Massey Hall, where the choral group was about to make its Christmas presentation. It’d been his intention to arrive late. The later, the better.

  He hadn’t needed to make up an excuse. After speaking with Addie and Danny, he’d returned briefly to his classroom and been waylaid by the custodian.

  “Mr. Mills,” the janitor whispered, motioning him over. He leaned against the mop handle, which rested inside a large metal bucket.

  Harry knew the man’s name was Jonas from something Celeste had mentioned earlier, although he couldn’t remember exactly what it was she’d told him. Human frailties could be downright frustrating. Memory being one of those.

  “Yes,” Harry said, as he approached the other man. “How can I help you?”

  “You’re new here, right?”

  “I am,” he said, and thrust out his hand. “Harry Mills.”

  The other man clasped his hand. “Jonas Spelling.” He looked directly at Harry in an unsettling way as if measuring his words. “I heard you came from a teaching position in Oregon State Community College.”

  This was a gray area Celeste had told him was best to avoid. “I did.”

  The other man looked him over from head to foot as though Harry was in a police lineup and he was about to make a positive identification. “I have a brother who works at the same college where you taught. He knows everyone and he claims he’s never heard of you.”

  Red lights started flashing right before Harry’s eyes. He was not used to having to lie. “I’m sure if your brother checks the records, he’ll find my name.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Jonas said. “Anyway, that isn’t the reason I wanted to talk to you.” He lowered his voice as though afraid someone might be listening in on their conversation.

  Harry made a point of glancing at his wrist, letting the other man know he had commitments. Then, in a flash, Harry remembered what Celeste had told him. Jonas Spelling was a known snoop. Harry had to wonder how it was that he attracted all the oddballs.

  “I won’t keep you long,” the janitor promised.

  “I appreciate that. I have a concert to attend.” He did his best to sound as official as Dr. Conceito.

  “Yes, yes.” The other man hesitated and looked down. “I have a couple concerns I thought you should know about.”

  “Concerns?”

  “Yes.” Again he lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s about that war vet in your class. The one with the dog.”

  “Andrew?” Harry had done his best to draw the reticent student into the class discussion, without success. Andrew sat in the very last seat in the back of the room and kept his head lowered, avoiding eye contact.

  “Didn’t know his name,” Jonas continued, whispering now.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “A potential one. I think the man might be mentally unstable.”

  Harry feigned surprise.

  “Furthermore, the dog sheds hair. It isn’t a good idea to be bringing a dog into a classroom.”

  “I disagree,” Harry said. “I think this class is exactly where Andrew needs to be, and as for the dog, federal law allows service animals into classrooms. Even if I did have a problem with Tommy, and I don’t, I couldn’t do anything about it.” And wouldn’t, he added silently.

  Jonas nodded as if he understood. “You’re a kindhearted person, I can see that. Still, I thought you should be aware of the potential danger you and the class might be in. You never know about these returning veterans. They can go ballistic without warning.”

  “Thank you for your concern,” Harry said pointedly, tamping down his irritation, “but I have everything under control.”

  The janitor leaned closer, causing the mop handle to sway toward Harry. “You don’t need to worry. I’ve spoken to Brady Whitall, and he’s keeping close tabs on the vet and the dog.”

  “The security guard?” This didn’t bode well.

  “Yes. Brady will keep a close eye on Andrew and on that felon.”

  “Felon? What felon?”

  “The one on parole. Watch him closely; he’s not to be trusted. He could rob you blind before you know what he’s doing. He’s a troublemaker if ever there was one.”

  Rather than argue, Harry made his excuses and hurried toward the performance center. As he walked, he tried to digest the conversation. This was a shock. Harry hadn’t expected Earth to be filled with such mean-spirited people.

  Once inside the performance center, it didn’t take Harry long to spot Michelle. She sat near the front of the auditorium, close to the aisle. She’d placed her winter coat over the back of the seat next to her, the one she’d purposely saved for him, Harry realized. She glanced over her shoulder a couple times while he stood out of view. He was determined to follow Celeste’s advice and stay away. Michelle was dangerous. Human, beautiful, single, and looking …

  Harry waited until Michelle turned back around before he ducked into the first available seat and hunkered down. To his dismay, she stood as though to come in search of him. A trapped feeling settled over him. Harry had to do something, and quickly. He closed his eyes and did what was necessary. This was an emergency situation: Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t use his heavenly powers, but he had no other choice.

  After a thorough search of the area, Michelle reluctantly returned to her seat. Harry released a sigh of relief.

  Then Michelle hesitated and her head came slightly back as she realized the chair she’d saved for him had vanished. The person who had been two seats over was now sitting directly next to her. She glanced down the row but seemed to realize that something was strange. It wasn’t as if her neighbor had moved, because there were no other empty seats. And no one else had come into the row. The chair had simply disappeared. She asked the person sitting directly behind her, apparently a friend, who shook her head and shrugged. With even more reluctance, she removed her jacket and reclaimed her seat.

  Everything would be fine as long as Celeste didn’t catch wind of what he’d done. He knew this was not really within parameters.

  It wasn’t until Harry relaxed that he realized he’d sat down next to Addie Folsom.

  She smiled over at him and he smiled back. Actually, this had worked out amazingly well. He’d hoped to have a friendly chat with
her and catch up on the progress she’d made with her neighbor. He had recently had a major insight. He’d become convinced that whatever Addie and Erich had to learn from each other might involve them falling in love. And he even thought the seeds were already there and taking root. Addie had had a crush on Erich in her early teens, and he suspected her feelings had never really changed.

  “Hello, Addie,” he said. “When I heard you and Danny talking earlier, I was impressed—you have a keen grasp of Dickens and this novel.”

  A smile flickered in and out of her eyes as though she was pleased by the compliment but unwilling to show it. “Thank you.”

  “Your progress has been excellent; I’m eager to read the written assignment when you turn it in.”

  It surprised him that his compliments caused her to blush. She didn’t seem like a woman who blushed easily. As an angel, he wasn’t really familiar firsthand with the feelings that caused blushing, but he was starting to pride himself on his insight into human nature. He changed the subject to help her out. “I understand you decided to look after your neighbor.”

  She frowned and looked away. “Yes.”

  He wanted to ask what had happened, but clearly he couldn’t. He wondered if Ashley had made an appearance, just as Celeste had said she would. It didn’t seem like matters had smoothed themselves out, either, whatever had happened. He felt the need to reassure her without making mention of anything specific. Weighing his words carefully, he leaned over and whispered in a conspiratorial manner, “You don’t need to worry. I realize you harbor deep feelings for your neighbor.”

  Addie jerked away as if he’d struck her. “You’ve got to be kidding! Erich and me? No way. I can’t imagine what ever gave you that idea.”

  “Ah … ah sorry, I thought …”

  “You thought wrong,” she snapped, and crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

  “Clearly I made a mistake.” Harry backpedaled as if in training for the Tour de France.

  “You sure did.” She glared at him as if to state she had nothing more to say on the subject.

  Another blunder. Harry didn’t understand. He knew in his heart that what he said was true; Addie did have feelings for Erich at one time, and he was fairly certain she still did. This is what made humans so difficult to understand. Addie did care for Erich, and yet she wasn’t willing to admit it. He shouldn’t have gotten ahead of himself.

 

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