“You’ve got to be kidding?” Hannah asked.
“It’s pretty fun once you get the hang of it,” Doug replied.
“You can explain all that to them along the way, handsome. Get going, scram!” Bertie shouted. “Your parents have been patient a long time now. They’re waiting for you all!”
“Here goes nothing…” the sisters said in unison as they each grabbed a hold of Doug’s hands.
Doug held on tight and said, “Now, just close your eyes and picture their faces…”
The siblings all closed their eyes and, within a split second, vanished.
Max, Bertie, and Martin looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“I love my job!” Martin grinned.
“Yeah, me, too,” Bertie sighed, “Ours may not be quite as exciting as yours, but we have our moments, too. Don’t we, Maximus?”
Max nodded, his thoughts quickly returning to their earthly charges. “Oh, yes… we certainly do.”
“Speaking of some of those moments,” Martin cleared his throat and turned to Max. “That reminds me… would you care to explain why you felt the need to expose yourself to young Miss Turner and Amos Brown?”
“You do know that expression kinda means something else these days, Martin,” Bertie laughed, “But we both know what you mean.” She also turned to face Max. “Yes, Maximus… I’ve been wondering the same thing myself… why did you expose yourself?”
“What?” Martin queried, a puzzled expression upon his face. “What does the expression mean these days?”
“I don’t think we need to get into that explanation just now,” Bertie grinned. “But… hey, Martin… maybe you can Google it later and find out for yourself!”
Max lifted his head high and straightened his massive shoulders. It was easy to envision him in his gladiator attire, so proud and strong, conquering anything and anyone who challenged him. “Neither of you needs to remind me; I know it is generally prohibited and greatly frowned upon,” Max replied. “I also know that I’ve slipped up a few times and exposed myself in the past. Trust me… I’ve heard about those times from our Lord, but He has also told me that He understands when I feel the need to do it. As far as Amos and Amanda… well… the time just presented itself, and I acted upon it. There’s no doubt I will have to make atonement for my actions.”
Bertie shook her head, trying hard not to grin at Max’s discomfort. “Well, I’ve managed to avoid any long conversations with Amanda or Amos, but I suppose we’ll need to sit down and discuss things with them soon. Amanda has been looking at me all week like I’ve suddenly grown two heads. You can tell she wants to say something, but I think she’s waiting for us to start the conversation.”
“And we will…” Max agreed. “When the time is right, but, in the meantime, I have no doubt that our secret is safe. I never would have shown my true self to them, if I ever thought otherwise. Amos has suspected for some time now, but poor Amanda is still in a state of shock and disbelief, I think.”
Martin smiled. “One of the few times the young lady has been speechless, no doubt.”
Max nodded his agreement. “Anyway, we will sit down with Amanda and Amos next week and make sure they understand exactly what they saw.”
“I can’t wait,” Bertie grinned.
“I’m sure you can’t,” Martin remarked, “But, wasn’t there something you needed to do while you were here today, Max?”
“Yes, my friend,” Max answered back. “I do have several things to check on while we’re here today. I have a strong feeling that things with Kris and the baby will be coming to a climax very soon, and… well, not knowing exactly how the situation will unfold… we need to be prepared to help Kris through this.”
“I can’t believe those idiots sent that letter to her,” Bertie said.
“Well, actually…” Martin began, “As it turns out, it was only one of those idiots that decided to send the letter.”
“What do you mean?” Bertie and Max asked in unison, surprised at Martin’s revelation.
Martin led them to the large video screen at the end of the room. “Watch this.”
The images of Jack and Susan Peterson appeared instantly on the screen. Bertie and Max watched and listened intently to the end of the couple’s conversation taking place in their Tampa home.
Jack Peterson collapsed onto the sofa and looked up at his wife. “Oh, dear, God… Susan, I can’t believe what you have done…”
Susan Peterson sat down next to her husband, wringing both hands nervously in her lap. “Please don’t be angry, dear. I’m so sorry, Jack. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight; all those medications… sometimes, they make my head so foggy, I just…”
Jack placed both hands against each side of his head. His shoulders collapsed in defeat. “You mailed the mother a letter, Susan… why on earth would you do that? Why…”
Susan put an arm around her husband and laid her head upon his shoulder. “She was just so sad, Jack. It broke my heart every time I saw her on television. But I was very careful, dear. I didn’t hand-write the note, so they can’t trace that back to us. It was typed and… oh, yes… I made sure not to put our address on it… I didn’t sign it. You read the copy I kept. I didn’t say anything that would let them know who we are, or where we are. I even washed the color from the baby’s hair before I took the picture, so they wouldn’t know we had changed the hair color. Oh, Jack… I just needed to do something… something to help that poor mother to be able to move on with her life.”
Kelly was crying softly in the back ground. It was time for a feeding.
Susan was torn between attending to the baby and attending to her husband. She pushed Jack’s thinning hair off his forehead and kissed him there. “Please don’t be angry with me, Jack… please. I told you, I didn’t put our address on anything. It’s okay; you’ll see… everything will be okay.”
Kelly continued to cry.
Jack looked at his wife, who was still so beautiful in his eyes, in spite of the obvious effects of the cancer eating away inside her. He took her into his arms and held her until she stopped shaking. “Go see to the baby, love…” he whispered.
Susan smiled as she rose to leave, content in her belief that she had not done anything to jeopardize their situation.
Jack watched her leave the room and his heart sank. He didn’t have the courage or heart to say it out loud, but he thought it to himself, “But the letter had a Tampa postmark…”
Martin’s screen moved to the room where the baby pulled herself to a standing position in her play pen.
The crying baby, with a head full of beautiful red curls, sat down in the play pen and rocked back and forth on her knees, demanding to be fed.
Susan had sat down in the rocking chair beside the play pen.
Jack entered the baby’s room and stroked his wife’s head. “We need to touch up her hair again today…” Jack whispered, unaware that Susan’s eyes had already closed in drugged sleep.
Our soul waits for the Lord; He is our help and our shield.”
-Psalm 33:20 (NKJV)
CHAPTER 34
The Petersons Face Reality
The trip Home had definitely recharged the angels of the Heavenly Grille Café. They went about their daily routine with, not only extra energy, but also, renewed purpose. Although they were not privy to God’s overall intents and purposes, they all felt that this particular chapter in Kris’ and Amanda’s life was coming to fruition soon.
During the past several weeks, the angels had taken every available opportunity to talk with the two women about what was going on in their lives, from what they had for breakfast to what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. It was easier for them to talk openly and candidly with Amanda since she now knew the truth about them; however, all three of them took immense satisfaction and gratitude in knowing they were having a part in bringing Kris closer to a true relationship with God. They had prayed with her and answered all her questions abo
ut God and the Bible, to the best of their abilities. Amanda had teased them, in private, telling them that Kris confided to her that she thought Max would make an even better preacher than he was a cook.
Max knew that he couldn’t put off the conversation he needed to have with Amos and Amanda, regarding his transformation before their very eyes, so he and Bertie had left Doug behind and returned earlier than usual from their weekly visit Home. Max had been duly reprimanded by his Father and reminded of the necessity to convey the importance for the two mortals to keep their secret and not tell anyone the truth about the three angels. He and Bertie had arranged for Amos and Amanda to join them at the café when the angels returned from Home on Sunday night.
The meeting lasted three hours, and in the end, the angels agreed that it had been a good meeting. Amos had been quiet and accepting of their explanations; however, their precious Amanda had been full of questions and awe – thus, the need for a three-hour meeting. It took the entire three hours, but in the end, Amanda had eventually come to terms with the fact that she had been employed by angels for the past six months of her life. She had asked numerous questions about her parents and the dreams she had been having. Max had reassured her that she was not losing her mind and that, most likely, she would continue to be able to communicate with her parents via the dreams. Amanda had seemed truly disappointed when she learned that she would not be able to share her new-found angelic knowledge with Kris, but she promised to keep the angels’ secret.
The Florida police had been busy since Kris received the letter from the kidnappers. They had been able to pull fingerprints from both the letter and the picture; unfortunately, the prints did not match any that were in their current database. They were able to conclude that the prints, most likely, belonged to a female. There had been a lot of discussion among the primary investigators as to whether or not they should advertise the fact that they knew the letter came from the Tampa area. They were concerned that the suspects would flee the state, and possibly the country, if that bit of evidence was advertised; they knew this would require law enforcement staff to start the investigation over from scratch. However, on the flip side, they felt that broadcasting the new information might alert more people to be on the lookout for the baby.
In the end, they had decided to go public with the information, but they waited until the morning of Monday, February thirteenth to do so. The police released a statement to all major newspapers and television networks that they suspected the kidnappers were in the Tampa area.
Ida Brooks, the elderly neighbor of Jack and Susan Peterson, was sitting at her kitchen table reading the newspaper when she saw the article about the missing baby. “Well, I’ll be…” she clucked. “That precious little baby is somewhere here in Tampa…” She looked at the color picture, included in the article, of Charlotte Grace; it was the Polaroid picture the kidnappers had sent to the baby’s mother. She traced her finger around the picture of the baby’s face. “What a beautiful little girl… such pretty red hair,” she sighed. She put the paper down, clasped her hands before her, closed her eyes, and prayed. “Oh, Lord… I pray that it is your will for this precious child to be found soon and reunited with her mother. Please keep her safe, Lord, and… forgive the people who took her away from her mother… Amen.”
A very different scene was unfolding inside the tidy house, next door, with the paradise-back yard.
Jack’s morning paper fell from his hands. He quickly picked up his cup of coffee to calm himself, but his hands began to shake so badly that the hot coffee dripped onto the newspaper, smearing the article he had been reading.
It was Monday morning, February thirteenth, and Jack was having a quick breakfast before heading off to work. As his hand continued to shake, he turned to check on Susan and the baby; they were both sitting on the lanai, enjoying the early-morning sunshine. Jack squeezed his eyes and bit his upper lip while he listened to his wife singing a weak lullaby to their baby girl. He sat at the table for another ten minutes, unable to move after reading the article outlining the police’s certainty that the kidnapped child was in the Tampa area. He knew he should get up and tell Susan about the article, but his legs felt like they had been immersed in concrete beneath him.
He could not move.
Susan found him sitting at the table with his forehead lowered into both hands. “Jack? Are you all right, dear?”
Jack sighed deeply before looking up into his wife’s worried eyes. He couldn’t say anything; all he could do was to return her concerned look.
Susan clutched the baby tightly against her and pleaded with her husband. “Jack… you’re scaring me… what’s wrong?”
The baby squirmed in Susan’s arms and began to slip. The feeling returned to Jack’s legs just in time. He jumped up instantly and caught Kelly beneath her arms. He hugged the baby tightly against him and inhaled her sweet-baby fragrance. The baby grabbed his nose and cooed.
Susan’s face had paled when she realized she was about to drop the baby. She grabbed onto the edge of the kitchen chair, pulled it out and collapsed onto it. She continued to stare into her husband’s worried face. “Oh, God… what’s wrong, Jack? I know something is wrong…”
Jack glanced quickly at the wet newspaper.
Susan followed his gaze and saw the newspaper covered with the stain from the spilled coffee. She looked at Jack, and then back at the newspaper. She pulled the paper closer to her and looked at the blown-up picture of a smiling, Charlotte Grace Devone. “Oh, God…” she whimpered, immediately releasing the paper as if it had burned her fingers. She looked back at her husband. “Jack? That’s the picture I sent the mother…”
“Go ahead,” Jack motioned at the paper, “Read it…”
Susan retrieved the dropped paper and read the article.
Jack watched his wife closely as her worried expression quickly turned to one of pure panic.
Susan put the paper back on the table and slowly lifted her head to look at her husband. She reacted instantly to the fear evident in his tired face. “Oh, no…Jack? What are we going to do? We’ve got to leave, but… oh, God… where do we go?” She attempted to push herself up and away from the table, but her knees shook so badly they gave way and she collapsed onto the tile flooring.
It all happened so quickly. Susan’s skeletal frame met the hard surface of the floor with a sick plop. Her eyes opened wide as she grabbed her throat with one hand and held the other one upward toward her husband.
The baby squirmed against Jack’s hip and his ability to breathe temporarily escaped him.
Susan closed her eyes and whispered hoarsely, “Can’t… breathe…”
Jack’s own ability to breathe was quickly restored and he reacted instinctively as Susan’s frail body lay crumbled before him. He bent down quickly, intent on assisting his wife, and forgot for a moment that he still held the baby in his arms. “Susan! Oh, God… hold on Susan!”
He rushed onto the lanai, dragged the playpen inside, and placed the cooing child inside it.
He raced back into the kitchen and the first thing he noticed was that Susan’s lips were already turning blue. He saw her eyes opened wide in apparent panic, staring at him; she was holding her throat and gasping frantically for air. Jack’s eyes roamed the room until he spotted his cell phone on the foyer table. He grabbed it and immediately dialed 911.
The 911 operator was still asking him questions when he dropped the cell phone and cradled Susan in his lap, careful to keep her head elevated. He kissed the top of her head just as she lost consciousness.
Charlotte/Kelly cooed in the background.
Jack was on his knees, rocking back and forth, with his wife’s head on his lap. “Hang on, love, please hang on…”
Ida Brooks heard the siren. It sounded like it was outside her front door. She rushed as quickly as any seventy-seven year old could to the front window to see what was going on outside. She opened her blinds just as her neighbor, Susan Peterson, was being loaded in
to an ambulance. “Oh, sweet, Jesus!” Ida exclaimed. She grabbed her cardigan and ran as quickly as she could to the Peterson’s driveway. She stopped and tried to catch her breath when she saw Jack Peterson standing helplessly in the driveway, holding their baby against his chest. She reached out and touched his arm. “Oh, Mr. Peterson, what’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”
In spite of the trauma unfolding before him, Jack was coherent enough to realize he had a true dilemma on his hands. He couldn’t deny it any longer, and he hated to finally admit it to himself, but he knew that Susan was dying. His wife was literally dying right before his eyes; and, he found himself torn between riding with her in the ambulance, and following in his car, with the baby. He bounced the baby, who was bundled in a light blanket, against his shoulder.
Ida’s first thought was that he looked like a small child who had just lost his best friend. She touched his shoulder once again. “Please, Mr. Peterson… let me help. What has happened?”
The concern in the old lady’s face was his downfall. Jack looked back and forth between Mrs. Brooks and the ambulance.
The ambulance driver was still holding open the vehicle’s doors. “Sir? We need to go! Will you be riding with your wife?”
Tears slowly began to run down Jack’s face and dropped onto the baby’s blanket. He made an instant decision that he hoped he would not live to regret. “Mrs. Brooks… I have to go with Susan. She’s very sick. She has cancer and…” He choked up and held the baby out to his neighbor. “Can you please stay at the house with Kelly until I get back? Her bottles are in the fridge and her diapers are in the nursery.”
Ida immediately took the smiling baby from his arms. “Of course, I can, dear. Don’t you worry one bit about her. I promise I will take good care of her. You go with your wife and don’t you worry about this precious child.”
The Heavenly Grille Café Page 21