by Jody Sharpe
“This is a first, tattoos to promote a book. How very creative.” Everyone is clapping and it’s making me nauseated. Sam turns back around putting his shirt on so everyone can see his toned body which elicits more whistles and yells from the audience.
“If you go to my website, you can see photos there. Samuel L. Blakley.com.”
She turns to the camera holding up the book for all to see in television land. “Sam Blakley’s page turner, “My California Angel” will definitely spark lots of conversation and it’s already on the New York Times best seller list! I thank you so much for being with me today.”
“July, it’s been a real pleasure meeting you, you are even lovelier in person.”
July takes Sam’s outreached hand. “Thank you, Sam. Coming up next on the show, celebrity chef Steve Lakin from Diego Joe’s right here in New York. He’s dishing up his latest healthy Vegetarian Enchilada Torte! And everyone gets a taste!”
The camera pans to the celebrity chef cooking and grinning in a white chef’s uniform. Oh, how I wish I was him right now or anybody else for that matter. I turn off the TV and look up Sam’s website. There they are. The close-up of his back with large colored angel wings takes me aback. I really can’t believe this. I read all the words of his bio, which he’s embellished of course and the book description.
“Max, a lonely professor, never dreamed he’d meet the girl of his dreams sitting in the third row of his creative writing class. Honor’s beauty is ethereal like one would expect of Helen of Troy, Nefertiti or Juliet. Little does he know she has a secret she’s keeping. She’s not from this world. She’s a real angel from heaven…..and so the truest of all love stories begins.”
I want to cry but remember my angel, Uriel and the thought of his presence calms me down. He brought me joy for just a moment, as if to steady me through the show but I know now I have to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Sam didn’t say who I was, so perhaps he only wants me to know. But he used my writings too. But why? Why not write his own version in his own style, not my stories almost word for word? He won awards before. What is he trying to accomplish? A lawsuit? I haven’t seen him in three years. He never called, emailed, wrote me a letter, nothing. I just thought he’d moved on in his own selfish way. Looking out the window on Main Street, I see the sun coming up with pinks and grays in the sky and birds flying over the rooftops. I feel hopeful remembering Uriel. But then I remember Josh told me too look in the mirror and see an angel. Little does he know he’s got it all wrong.
People are waking up in my little town. I see them walking toward the Next Door Café. I know most of them. Andy’s outside his store, locking up heading out for coffee. I hear a car in the alley. Life goes on whether Sam wrote the book or not. I have to remember I’m not the center of the universe…just a little unknown person with a couple of angel genes in a small town, in a big state, a huge country, a planet….a universe. I’m just a speck in a grain of sand with a little secret.
Angels are out there, but they don’t want to be known. How many are there? Dad never told me…it’s meant to be a secret in this imperfect stumbling world.
I take a shower and feel better not like the zombie of yesterday. I move slowly through the apartment and open the door to leave. Stopping in front of the mirror I look at myself. I don’t look good, for sure not like a half angel. Maybe changing my look would help. I’ll cut my hair, change the color, and then maybe people from town won’t think of me when they see the book and it will all go away. We go down the steps like a parade, Duke, Dawn and me with Jesse leading in front. I open the door to the store and Jesse runs in. I lock it again and we head across the alley to the house.
The beauty of spring is everywhere, in the newly cut grass on the lawn, the flowering pinks, apricots, and reds of Aunt Helen’s prize roses and the pots of geraniums lining the back porch. The love birds are at the feeder, their chirps like music for the soul. I smell new-mown grass. A brave bee buzzes by my ear. I try hard to get out of fear and back into my old self. I climb the few steps to the house. The smell of bacon hits my nose, but I’m still not hungry. The animals rush in looking for Dad and bacon but I stop in my tracks. Bubbles is actually hanging on Aunt Helen’s shoulder watching her fry eggs.
“What is this?” I laugh almost feeling like me again.
“I know, isn’t this funny?” Aunt Helen almost sings. “Your Dad is still in bed and Bubbles came in, begging for her breakfast and jumped on my shoulder. I wasn’t scared, honey. Isn’t that great? I think she just loves it when I give her a taste of my cooking.” Aunt Helen laughs cutting off a tiny piece of egg and putting in a little dish. The squirrel jumps off her shoulder and lands on the cat-shaped cookie jar.
“Go ahead and take it,” Aunt Helen whispers. Bubbles jumps down and gobbles the egg up turning it round and round. It makes me think of Andy Walin. Aunt Helen is as thrilled as if she won first prize at the State Fair Cinnamon Roll Contest.
“Wow, she’s got you trained. Wait till Dad sees this!” Laughing and walking through the living room and up the stairs I spy Dad still in his pajamas watching the July North Show.
He clicks off the remote and smiles. “Hi Red, how are you today?”
I sit on the bed. “Okay, I guess considering it all. How are you?”
“Were you watching July? I think she did a good job framing the story like you’re getting a complement. I still think if we brush off anything people say it will be okay.” He smiles but there is worry behind those beautiful blue eyes.
“I watched it. I want to hate him but I don’t feel hate. That’s your way, Dad. Is it an angel’s way?”
“Yes, angels can’t feel hate, only sadness. That’s a good thing in this case. I was up until late thinking about the book and the deer farm and how we can make it all work out. I even heard Molly the owl out there around five am. Being up is kind of like being in heaven, listening to the quiet sounds of the night.”
“Oh, Dad, my lack of judgment has really blown it. July made it seem like I’m a lucky girl. I feel anything but lucky. I ’m so truly sorry, please forgive me.”
My father takes my hand as he sits up straight.
“Red, there’s nothing to apologize for. Let’s be positive. Your mother came to me last night and her very presence told me it’ll be all right.”
I smile at the father I love so much and feel courageous. “I wish I could see her, but I thought I heard her whisper she loved me again.”
“Darlin’, she’s with us, I tell you.”
“I know. Uriel visited me this morning too and made me feel such joy for a moment. His message has always been to have hope and courage.”
“Uriel touches us with such joy. The fact that you can see him is tremendous. These are beautiful signs of what’s to come, Red. You’ll find more joy today.”
“I do have a heavy day at the store. We’ve lots of boxes to unpack. Did you see Sam’s angel wings tattooed on his back? They looked horrible close up on his website.”
“There are no words for that. However, I still think he didn’t believe you. He just took the writings and pieced them together to create the novel at your expense. Obviously, he’s untrustworthy and a bully. But forget this for a moment and have breakfast. I smell eggs and bacon and I’m rather famished.”
“You won’t believe it when you see it.”
“Believe what?”
“Just go down and see for yourself!” He gets up. Immediately, the animals follow us like a traveling circus down the stairs across the living room and into the kitchen. It will be all right, if he says it will and I have got to believe him. Hearing him laugh heartily at Bubbles jump from my aunt’s shoulder then to his is like a happy song for me. The look on Bubbles face is incredibly funny, bulging eyes with a humorous expression of accomplishment. That squirrel could have her own reality TV show. Maybe we should focus on that. But then I think of Sam’s back tattooed with cheap-looking angel wings and my appetite truly leaves me.
<
br /> To: Hannah’s email@…..
From: Sblakley’s email@…..
You thrill me. Wear your hair up tonight. See you at 7.
Love, Sam
Taylor and I are busier than busy as we unpack boxes of new items. I feel a little better, not as anxious. I tell Taylor the news about Dawn and Jacobs Petting Farm, Bambi and Sam’s book. He’s appalled. Taylor makes me laugh saying in that wonderful accent of his. “Hannah, really, don’t you worry about a thing. That man is a maggot, I tell you. Even though I never met him, I never liked you dating your old and controlling professor. That Bambi sounds totally bizarre. But, you can take her on.”
Mrs. Sissy Abens, our favorite customer, comes in wanting to see what’s new. We always call her when new merchandise arrives. She has numerous rescue cats, chickens and two dogs at her house outside town. We love getting her input on the new merchandise and give her the family discount. She goes wild over all the pet blankets and pet clothes that Aunt Helen designs. We’re having so much fun unpacking and talking with her that I’m taken by surprise when the door flies opens and bangs against the wall. In walks Bambi Blakley, Tiffany Gould, with a short cameraman behind her. Last but not least, Bambi’s grandfather, Mr. Jacobs, comes storming in wearing his same dirty overalls and his mean facial expression reminiscent of his not so nice granddaughter.
I find I can’t move a muscle. Bambi wears heels and a tight dress as black as her heart. It was prophetic seeing her at the Next Door Café. My heart races. Tiffany’s clearly excited and wears bright pink from head to toe and with her platinum hair swept up high, it looks like cotton candy. Seeing the hair reminds me of the fair and cotton candy and my mother. Thinking of my mother makes my heart hurt. Then I focus back on the impending storm. What in heaven’s name will I do now? I can’t move, like a broken statue bending over a box with real hair in its face.
“Are you Hannah O’Ryan?” Tiffany blurts out in her annoying voice.
“I’m Hannah,” Taylor retorts through clenched teeth.
“Very funny, sir,” Tiffany says with a mocking look. Then she turns towards me.
Bambi interjects, “I bet he’s her boyfriend and probably somebody else’s husband. She’s a husband stealer besides being that bitch angel in Sam’s book!”
I want to run, but literally can’t move, frozen like my aunt’s frozen lemon surprise.
“You’re that girl who stole my fawn!” shrieks Mr. Jacobs.
“We run a private business here,” Taylor says with a harshness I’ve never heard before. He seems to have grown suddenly taller. He points to the door. “You all need to leave now!”
The cameraman tips his camera down obviously intimidated by Taylor. Tiffany and Bambi ignore Taylor as Tiffany walks over to me.
“Miss O’Ryan, I’d like to interview you for a moment. I know you’re Sam Blakley’s old girlfriend. Bambi Blakley here told me you’re the heroine in the book. She called me yesterday and told me the whole story. You really do look like the angel on the cover of “My California Angel,” though pink is certainly not your color.”
Straightening up finally, my funny side thinks but does not say that pink certainly isn’t her color either. Feeling the rush of anger, I straighten up as tall as I can…Heck, I tower over this woman and Bambi and I are the same height. I could pick up that cameraman if I wanted to.
Taylor yells, “I said leave or we will call the police. In fact, I am calling them now.” Taylor walks around them all to the phone.
“It’s just a matter of time people,” says Tiffany looking at us both. “There’ll be more media. Bambi’s doing an interview this morning. If you give me an exclusive interview with your reaction, the rest of the media might leave you alone.” Then in a taunting way, “Are you a real angel, Hannah?”
“She’s not an angel, she’s a thief!” Mr. Jacobs yells loudly.
I’m not responding. Taylor speaks into the phone. “It’s Taylor at Dear Dogs 217 Main Street. Send a policeman. A TV reporter is harassing Hannah O’Ryan and won’t leave.” Taylor listens, “Thank you!” He hangs up the phone and goes over to the door, opens it wide and in the loudest voice I’ve ever heard him use orders, “Get out of the store now!”
Tiffany retorts with anger, “I’m not leaving till I get the story, Miss Hannah Angel O’Ryan!”
“How coincidental that Angel’s your middle name,” seethes Bambi. “Why don’t you tell her how you stole my husband? He hates me now because you told him I called you all the time. Did you know Brock Tricoult dumped me for yelling at you in that crappy restaurant?” She looks at her grandfather, “Gramps, tell her you want your deer back or to fork over ten grand!”
Ignoring Bambi Tiffany states with fake sincerity, “I just want a story; your reaction to the book, and how he left us with the impression you might be a real angel. Though, I don’t see any wings.” She laughs a childish laugh. “But if you are a real live angel then I want to be the first to report it.” I look at her hair and it makes me think of the State Fair and cotton candy again and how my Mom and I would go on the Ferris wheel and to the 4H exhibit and meet Dad and Aunt Helen at the baked goods contest.
Chief of Police Donnie Whitefeather and Sergeant Jim Nero, my friend Sue’s husband, have pulled up in a squad car. They got here so fast that maybe Donnie is clairvoyant like people say.
“I’m Chief Whitefeather of the Mystic Bay police department. If Miss O’ Ryan asked you to leave, you need to leave right now. A business has rights.” Donnie is Sioux and his strong face appears quite intimidating when stern. Sergeant Nero is even larger with a military crew cut and equally military muscles. I’d be scared just looking at them if I were this group. The cameraman, a small man with no musculature to speak of, starts backing out the door like a scared character in a cartoon.
The other intruders don’t move. “Stand firm Clem,” Tiffany says harshly to the timid cameraman. She looks at Donnie, “Hannah didn’t ask us to leave, her boyfriend did.” She points toward Taylor. In the commotion Andy, Laurjean and Chris walk in.
“Whoa, what’s this all about?” Andy says in a loud voice. “I had a feeling this wasn’t good…. you media types better leave here now.” He walks over to me and puts his arm around me. Taylor comes over and flanks me too. Mrs. Abens stands next to them. I love these people so much.
“You have been asked to leave,” Donnie says firmly. The four just stand there in defiance.
Chris pipes in, “What’s your problem, people? Are you deaf? My Dad can throw your butts in jail!”
Laurjean says, “Land sakes, don’t you have better places to go then our little town and this store? How about Mars?”
Tiffany, Bambi and her grandfather don’t answer. I don’t look at them just at Donnie and Jim.
“Do you want them to leave, Hannah?” asks Donnie.
“Yes, I do,” I croak.
“Time to move on out.” He walks toward them and Bambi, Tiffany, Gramps and the cameraman start to leave begrudgingly. Tiffany stops and looks back at me, “This is a big story, Hannah, and by not saying anything you are admitting to us all that you’re hiding something.”
I look at Taylor and his nod pleads, “Say something.” Everyone is looking at me. Of course my other friends don’t know anything about Sam. Well, Andy did see us out once, but probably doesn’t remember Sam’s name. I wish I was anybody else, although not this crew. Somehow, I find the courage to walk right over to Tiffany. The small cameraman starts to roll.
“Look at me. I’m just an ordinary person.” I smile a really sarcastic smile and pinch my arm hard.
“See?” I show my arm where there is a mark from pinching myself. “OW!” I hold my arm out to her.
“You can pinch me if you want. Go ahead.” Tiffany just stares at me with a deer-in-the-headlights look.
I wait a beat then say to Gramps, “I found a fawn far away, five point-two miles to be exact from your farm. So if you want to prove I stole it, then you just work yourself silly.
We have a business to run, so please leave our store and don’t come back either. Thank you so much!” I turn on my heels as Taylor holds the door. Donnie and Jim walk right behind the four of them. Bambi turns at the door and says nastily, “I’d love to pinch you. My Gramps is going to get a big San Francisco lawyer, aren’t you Gramps?”
“I just want my money. You said she’d give me money.” Donnie moves them out and Taylor closes the door. Everyone looks at me. I know I have to say something.
“I dated Sam Blakley who’s written a novel. The woman on the cover who looks like me is supposed to be an angel and so is her father. That black-haired woman was Sam’s ex. She got in touch with the reporter trying to make money I guess. And that old guy left the fawn to die in the woods. Now he wants money. This is a mess, I’m sorry. I appreciate your standing up for me like that.” I smile with an effort and tremble after revealing the truth. It’s weird telling the real story and pretending its fiction. Though, I’m not an angel. I’m far from it.
Andy replies, “Don’t worry, we got your back.”
“Thanks Andy.”
Laurjean is miffed. “That Sam’s a first class nightmare on any Main Street. And that woman… she was the one in the Café yelling at you on Valentine’s Day, right? And that old geezer leaving Dawn? Why he’s going to lose his farm for sure? Honey, thank the Lord you’re not with that Sam what’s-his-name. I hadn’t heard about the book but we all have to stick together, kiddos and help Hannah out.”
“Yes we do,” pipes in Sissy. “You handled that well, dear. And Taylor, I want you in my corner.” She shakes her gray head with a smile.
“Thanks, Sissy.” I hug each of them. “Thank you all.”
Chris adds. “Hannah, they’re intimidated by Dad but if you need me call, okay?”