Andrew shrugged. “I don’t know. Would you?”
Beth thought for only a moment. “No. I’d want to live whatever time I had left to the fullest, without looking over my shoulder for the Grim Reaper.”
Andrew took this in, then nodded. “Me too.”
“Help!” A desperate cry shattered their tender moment. “Help!”
It was a young boy’s voice, and it was coming from the lake.
Andrew and Beth arrived at the edge of Waller’s Pond in less than a minute to find a terrified Tyler standing with a boy and a girl next to a huge snow fort that had just caved in. Beth took the terrified Tyler by the arms.
“Tyler!” she said. “What happened?”
Tyler pointed a trembling finger at the collapsed fort.
“Katie’s in there.”
Beth and Andrew attacked the frozen pile, digging with their hands, throwing back the packed snow in all directions. “Faster!” Beth said. “There’s no time!”
Suddenly a girl’s boot emerged from the snowpack. “A foot!” Andrew said. He grabbed it and tried tugging her out, but there was still too much snow weight on top of her.
“Keep digging!” Beth said. They again attacked the pile until the other foot appeared and then a leg. “Okay, pull!” Beth said. They each grabbed a leg and tugged, throwing their collective weight into it. Finally, the boot moved a little, and then a little more until the girl was suddenly pulled free, sending Andrew and Beth tumbling over backward.
Tyler stared wide-eyed at his sister lying cold and still in the snow. Her skin was blue, her eyes shut tight. She wasn’t breathing.
“Is she dead?” Tyler said.
Andrew ripped off his coat and draped it over the lifeless girl. Beth began CPR, alternating two breaths with thirty chest compressions. She was calm and collected, totally focused on the task at hand. Andrew pulled out his cell phone and called 911. “Waller’s Pond,” he said. “Hurry!”
Andrew put an arm around Tyler’s shoulders and tried to comfort him. Beyond the snow fort, he noticed a young man sitting on a split-rail fence, watching. He was Asian and in his late teens. He had tattoos on his neck, a nose ring, and several studs piercing his upper and lower lips. He was wearing a black leather jacket and a backward baseball cap.
Odd that he seemed so dispassionate. He hadn’t offered to lend a hand and didn’t seem the least bit concerned. Then Andrew noticed his earrings. They were gold and dangled in the winter sunlight.
Keys. Lionel’s keys.
Andrew gestured to the boy, gave him a “how ’bout a little help?” look, but the boy’s gaze remained steady and unblinking. Apparently he had no intention of budging from his perch.
Andrew turned back to the scene at hand as Beth worked furiously to revive the girl. Katie still wasn’t moving. Again, Andrew turned to the tattooed stranger. Please help us, Andrew thought, and instantly he felt as if the boy had read his thoughts. Still, he made no move to assist.
“When all earthly endeavors have been exhausted, there’s always God.” As the words danced through Andrew’s head in the voice of his grandmother, the boy on the fence cracked the slightest of smiles.
A loud gulp for air brought Andrew back to the moment. Katie coughed three times, then spit up. Tyler shouted, “She’s alive!”
Andrew looked back toward the young man on the fence. He was gone.
Beth cradled the stunned girl in her arms. She stroked Katie’s hair and soothed her. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay. Just take it easy.”
Katie looked up into Beth’s eyes.
“I saw angels,” the girl said. “They talked to me. They said they were waiting.”
“Waiting for what, sweetie?”
“For you,” she said. “The angels are waiting . . . for you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Beth took a sip of wine. “Some day, huh?”
Andrew and Beth were sitting in a back booth at Mr. Woo’s, a favorite local Chinese restaurant on the square. There were candles on the white-clothed tables and a crackling fire in the fireplace. The dining room was tastefully decorated in red, green, and silver. A tiny Christmas tree stood atop an upright piano where a woman sat plunking away the old holiday standards.
By the time the ambulance arrived at Waller’s Pond that afternoon, Katie was back to normal and wanted to go home. But Mitch and Megan arrived just after the EMTs and insisted that Katie go to the hospital to be checked out.
Megan called Beth later that afternoon to let her know how grateful they were to them. Katie was doing just fine and showing no ill effects from her near-death experience.
“Can I get you folks anything else?” the waiter said.
“I think we’re good,” Andrew said. His mouth was dry as melba toast; he felt awkward and out of sorts, like a schoolboy on his first date.
“What is it?” Beth said. “You’ve hardly said a word since we sat down.”
“You were amazing today,” Andrew said. “You saved a life. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
Beth smiled at him. “You would have saved her.”
“I’m not so sure,” Andrew said.
Beth put a hand on his arm. “I am.” She sat back in her chair, a wistful look on her face. “Weird what Katie said, wasn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Andrew said. He knew exactly what she meant.
“You know. ‘The angels are waiting for you.’ Waiting for me. Didn’t you find that a little strange?”
“Oh, well, she was delirious,” he said. He signaled the waiter for the check. He wanted to get off this track as quickly as possible.
“I don’t know,” Beth said. “I’ve read about near-death experiences. Lots of people have had them. Maybe she was bringing me a message from the other side.”
Andrew laughed nervously. “The other side?”
“You know, the spirit world. I just think what she said was interesting, that’s all. I happen to believe we have a spiritual self—our real and true self. It’s just hidden most of the time.”
“Well, how do we get it to show itself?” Andrew tried his best to sound sincere.
“Love,” Beth said. “Whenever we love unselfishly, our true and perfect self shines through.”
“I believe that,” Andrew said.
“Oh really?” Beth said. “Honey, no offense—it’s just that I’ve never known you to be a metaphysical kind of guy.”
“Well, I’ve changed.”
“Oh?” Beth said. She took a sip of water. “Since when?”
“Since . . .” Andrew glanced over just as the piano player blew him a kiss. She had stopped playing and was looking right at him. He nearly knocked over his wineglass. “Oops.”
Beth smiled as if she found his boyish awkwardness endearing. “You’d better slow down, mister. Or I may have to cut you off.”
“Uh, sorry,” Andrew said. “I guess the piano player’s going on break.”
“What piano player?”
Andrew looked back at the piano. It was gone, and so was the woman. “I . . . uh . . . I was just . . . making a joke,” he said.
“Okay,” Beth said. “Why are you so jumpy tonight?”
“I’m not jumpy. I’m . . . excited. Very excited.”
“Why?”
Andrew reached beneath the table and pulled out a large gift-wrapped parcel.
Beth smiled. “Oh, right. The mystery package you’ve been carrying around that I’m not supposed to ask about.”
“That’s the one,” Andrew said. He placed it in front of her.
Beth rubbed her hands together. “For me?”
Andrew nodded.
“Oh, goody. I love surprises,” she said.
“So I’ve heard.”
“I can’t believe you got this for me,” Beth said.
“Beth, you don’t even know what it is yet.”
“I know, but I still can’t believe it.”
“Just open it!”
> Beth carefully peeled away the wrapping paper and lifted the top off the box. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth. It was the old music box, the one she’d fallen in love with at the Forever Christmas store.
“Oh, Andrew,” she said.
She cranked the little wind-up key and stared dreamily as the miniature skaters came to life and started weaving their way across the tiny frozen pond. She leaned across the table and gave Andrew a kiss. “I love it. Thank you.”
Andrew felt a rush of pleasure. Lionel told him he needed to get Beth a farewell Christmas gift, and it looked like he’d nailed it the first time out of the gate. It was almost too easy.
“Guess we should get the check,” he said. He again tried to signal the waiter, then noticed that Beth was staring at him, a half smile on her lips. “What?” he said.
“I was just thinking about Katie and Tyler and how cute they are.”
“Yes,” Andrew said. “They’re cute kids.”
“Does it ever make you want one?” Beth said. “Or two?”
Andrew could feel her watching his face for a reaction. He thought about faking it, about putting on a show, but he knew he wasn’t that good of an actor. Beth would know he wasn’t being sincere, and it would only make things worse.
“Beth, I just—” He searched desperately for the right words. Why now? Why did she have to bring this up now? In the history of timing, this had to be the absolute worst. “I just don’t think that now is the right time,” he said. The moment the words left his lips, he knew they were lame and weak and pathetic.
Beth nodded and carefully dabbed her lips with her napkin. Andrew could see she was struggling to keep the tears at bay.
“Andrew, I know we’ve talked about waiting for the perfect time, but I’m not getting any younger, and it just seems that maybe now’s as perfect as it’s ever going to get.”
Andrew felt the knot tighten in his stomach. “Listen, Beth . . .”
“Never mind.” She dropped her napkin and pushed back from the table. “Forget I brought it up. I have to go to the ladies’ room.”
She started off and then abruptly turned back. “Andrew, when we were younger, you used to tell me you couldn’t wait to start a family. Somewhere along the way, I guess you changed your mind.”
Andrew watched her walk away and knew she didn’t want him to see her cry. He felt a lump in his throat. No matter how hard he’d tried to make the perfect weekend, reality kept rearing its ugly mug to burst the balloon.
“Bravo!”
Andrew turned to see the piano lady sitting in Beth’s seat. She was an attractive woman in her midthirties with raven hair and an olive complexion. Her lips were bright red and her cheeks dusted with blush. He immediately noticed her necklace. A large gold key, dangling there like a heavenly calling card.
“You have outdone yourself, my friend,” the piano player said.
Andrew was in no mood to be hospitable. “Seat’s taken.”
“Not for much longer.” Her tone held a touch of mockery that made Andrew want to toss his half-empty bowl of dim sum at her. “Look, lady—”
“Isabelle,” the piano player said.
“Isabelle. If you’re not here to help out, I’d appreciate it if you’d just leave me alone. I don’t need another reminder about the ticking clock. I can tell time.”
Isabelle threw back her head and laughed. “Very funny. Now, tell me, funny man, why don’t you want kids?”
Andrew glared a hole through her. “I do want to have kids! More than anything.”
The woman gave him a dubious look. “That’s not what you said when Beth brought up the subject. You said, and I quote: ‘I just don’t think that now is the right time.’ Unquote.”
“I’m an idiot. Okay?” Andrew said. “There, I said it. You happy now?” Andrew noticed that a few of the customers were watching him.
“You do know they can’t see me, right?” Isabelle said.
Andrew turned beet red and lowered his voice. “I’ve had the wrong priorities. I’ve been caught up in my career.”
The piano lady winked at him. “That’s the first smart thing I’ve heard you say since I met you. But being an idiot with wrong priorities is just part of your problem. What about your father?”
“My father?” Andrew said. “What does he have to do with whether I want kids?”
“More than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“You just don’t get it,” she said. “All of our thoughts and feelings are connected. Each one affects the other. Maybe your attitude toward your father has influenced your desire to become a father.”
“You sound more like a shrink than an angel,” Andrew said.
“Oh no,” Isabelle said. “A shrink will tell you it’s not your fault. We angels know better. The universe is harmonic, Andrew. If your life isn’t harmonious, it’s because you’ve chosen disharmony. Believe it or not, you’ve chosen your present situation. You’re the reason I’m here, and you’re the reason you will lose the best thing that ever happened to you tomorrow night at 11:58 p.m.”
Andrew felt his temperature rising. “You’re crazy. Nobody would choose this.”
Isabelle put a hand on his arm. “Deal with your father, Andrew.”
“If I deal with my father, will that help me with Beth?”
“Only those who forgive earn the right to be forgiven,” the woman said.
“Where’d you learn that—angel boot camp?”
She picked a fortune cookie from Beth’s plate and handed it to Andrew. He cracked open the brittle cookie and pulled out the little slip of paper. “Only those who forgive earn the right to be forgiven.”
“Forgive my father? You have no idea what he—”
“I know more than you, Andrew.”
“Okay. Well, pretend you’re not an angel for a minute,” he said. “Pretend you’re just a fallible old mortal like me. Would you forgive him if your father did that to your mother?”
“I’ve forgiven a lot worse,” Isabelle said.
“Well, what if I don’t think it’s right? What if I think it would be disloyal to my mother’s memory if I just forgive and forget?”
“Andrew, Andrew. You are such a naïve boy. Your mother has long ago forgiven your father. If you really want to pay tribute to her memory, you need to do the same.”
“What do you know about my mother?” Andrew said.
Isabelle gave him a look.
“I get it . . . you’re an angel,” he said.
She winked at him. “Now you’re catching on.”
Andrew took a gulp of water. “So, what about my gift? Beth loved it.”
“Very nice, Andrew.” She appraised the music box. “Nice, but not quite right.”
“What do you mean, not right?” Andrew said. “You—well, Lionel—said to get a Christmas present, and I got a Christmas present. I’m not sure what you want from me.”
Isabelle looked over to see Beth returning from the bathroom. “Here she comes. Remember. Go see your dad.”
The walk back to the inn was awkward and silent. Andrew toted the oversized music box that now seemed a wasted effort. Beth walked slowly, her hands in her coat pockets. She seemed lost in thought and in no mood for conversation. Andrew decided it was best to give her space.
A few blocks away, the church bell from River Falls Christian started to peal, reminding Andrew once again that time was marching after him. He looked at Beth. He hated the feeling of being cut off from her.
He decided to play his only card. “Let’s go see my dad.”
Beth stopped in her tracks, faced him. “Andrew, are you serious?”
“Yes. The nursing home is only a few blocks from here. I bet he’s still up.”
Ten minutes later they were standing outside the Shady Tree Nursing Home.
“What changed your mind?” Beth said.
“I don’t know,” Andrew said. “I was just thinking that all the resentment I’ve built up over
the years for my father can’t be good for me. And maybe it’s time I tried to, you know, deal with my . . . feelings and stuff.”
Beth gave him a curious look. “Andrew, that’s very self-aware of you. That’s not like you.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I mean. You’ve never been one to self-examine.”
“Yeah,” Andrew said. “I know. It’s just . . . I don’t want to let anything come between you and me. Not anymore.”
Beth smiled and took his hand. “Come on, then. Let’s go say hello.”
The moment they entered the nursing home recreation room, they spotted Henry Farmer sitting alone at a card table, aimlessly shuffling a deck of cards. Andrew thought how small and frail his father looked. There was an oxygen tank next to him, a bottle of pills on the table.
“Heard I could find a game of gin rummy here,” Beth said.
Henry looked up. At first he seemed confused, then he spotted her and smiled. “Beth?” he said. “Is it really you?”
Andrew hung back, let Beth take the lead. He further appraised his dad. The years on the road, the cigarettes and endless drinking, had taken their toll. If Beth felt the same, she didn’t let on. She gave Henry a kiss on the forehead, and he flushed bright pink.
“Well, if this don’t beat all,” Henry said. “If I’d have known you were coming, I’d have baked a cake.”
Beth took the chair across from him. “We wanted to surprise you. Besides, I’m trying to cut back on sweets.”
Henry laughed. “I don’t know why. You’re still quite the dish.”
“Oh, stop it,” Beth said. “You’ll make me blush.”
Henry took a quick hit of oxygen as Andrew looked away.
Beth caught his eye, gave him a coaxing look, and mouthed the words, “Say something.”
“How are ya?” Andrew said. It came out stiff and forced. He felt his stomach tighten, his pulse quicken. The old resentments started to simmer; he wanted to turn and run out of the room. What was he thinking, coming here? He wasn’t ready for this.
“I’m old, that’s how I am,” Henry said. “I have to tote this blasted tank with me everywhere I go, but other than that, I guess I can’t complain.” He gave a wheezing chuckle. “But sometimes I still do.”
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