The Angels' Mirror Pack 2: Books Four through Seven

by Harmony L. Courtney

  And in spite of it all… he wasn’t sure whether to be bitter or glad.

  There was too much riding on his Mama’s survival to think of that now. He had been foolish. He just hoped that when Lovan came to see him, there was a way to make amends.

  Thirteen

  Boston, Massachusetts… May 6, 1937

  Steven glanced toward the office window, yearning to be done for the day. He had plans to spend time with Peter and Lily, and then to head home to see his wife and daughter.

  It had been a chilly Wednesday, but not overly so. He just hadn’t been able to get outside much to see it.

  He sighed, rolling his wrists to alleviate the tension in them. After nearly seven hours of typing for the day, he was more than ready to be done.

  Sometimes he wondered if he’d done the right thing by Shannen and their little Shannen Rose… but the job – and pay – was good, and their apartment cozy. It got them all away from the spray of the sea, and the bitterness of fishing life, and in the end, it had brought Liraz to them… it had brought her joy in her time of grief.

  “Hey, Schwartz, is everything alright,” his boss, Mr. Faires asked, catching him off-guard.

  Usually a considerate and kind man where his workers were concerned, Mr. Faires stood nearly six feet tall, with deep blue eyes and short-cropped flaxen hair that was turning white around the perimeter.

  “Yes, Sir,” he said, returning his eyes to the material he was working on. “Just giving my eyes a break for a moment, but I’m right back on it.”

  “Very good, Schwartz, very good. You’ve done a fine job in the time I’ve had you here, and even with your occasional daydreaming, I know I can count on you to be thorough and precise,” the man said, towering over him now. “I know that, even when the other workers aren’t finished, that you’re ready to help pick up the slack, and that has its rewards.”

  “Yes, Sir… thank you, Sir,” Steven replied, beginning to feel a little confused.

  Where’s this conversation heading? It isn’t like Mr. Faires to have a conversation this long with anyone, unless there’s something he wants, so….

  “Well, I’d like to see if we can get together for dinner sometime next week and discuss the possibilities in your future,” Mr. Faires continued, pulling up the chair from the next desk over to be closer still.

  Steven paused his typing and turned to face his boss. What should I do, Lord, he prayed quickly within himself. What should I do? You know the differences in opinion we have on the things that matter most; you know that I’m thankful for this job, in spite of those differences. I just don’t know… please, show me what to do!

  “What day do you have in mind? I’ll see what I can do,” he said, trying his best to moderate his voice.

  It certainly wouldn’t do if Mr. Faires knew there was any trepidation or uncertainty on his part. That would merely escalate things in another direction altogether that they really didn’t need… and neither did his career.

  If there was something… some ulterior motive, some atypical request, some dotted line to cross or leave… it wouldn’t do him any good to argue, but neither to acquiesce blindly.

  So what would he do?

  “I’ll need you to stay after work next Thursday and we’ll go to dinner afterward. There are a few things I’d really like to talk with you about, and I don’t want to be distracted by the rest of the staff.”

  “I’ll speak with Shannen. I’m sure it can be arranged. Thank you for the opportunity,” Steven replied again as his boss stood once more, leaving the chair where it was.

  Father God, what is happening here? What is it that I need be aware of and how am I going to approach this situation? I want to glorify You in my life, including my work life, and I’m not sure how to get from here to there if there is something amiss, he prayed, keeping his eyes on the page in front of him.

  How can I continue working for someone who is kind to my face but has a hatred for all things that my wife and her family… that my friends and loved ones stand for? How can I, in good conscience spend time with this man outside of work, unless You have called me to it? Show me the way where I am to walk, and the steps I need to take. On my own, I cannot do this, even though Mr. Faires’ words are kind and the implications are tempting. I need to know I’m doing things Your way, instead of my own, Lord. Please…

  Something just doesn’t feel right about this whole thing… but why can’t I put a finger on it? And when Shannen and Mr. Faires finally meet face to face, will I still be working here, or will I need to find something else? Lord, show me… show me what I must do, and how and when. I don’t even care about the why anymore… just guide me into what You want for my life, and my family.

  He and Shannen knew the man had made anti-Semitic comments… but was the man aware that she had been born Jewish, even though she professed Christ as Lord, pled with the Virgin Mother daily, and that her family of origin had all become believers?

  Did it even matter to him that some people he disparaged were actually followers of Jesus Christ, the same as he professed to be?

  With a sigh, Steven moved on to the next page of correspondence to type and did his best not to worry.

  What good would it do, anyway?

  “Your boss asked you to do what,” Shannen asked him as she finished changing their daughter’s diaper.

  Liraz Schwartz looked at him askance, but said nothing.

  “He wants me to go with him to dinner to discuss some things related to my job… said something about future opportunities, but something inside of me cringes a little. I mean, I try not to share time alone with him unless I have to, even though I pray for him and wish him well,” Steven said again.

  He had practiced in his head what he’d say… and still, it hadn’t come out the way he’d intended.

  “And he did not say anything more,” Liraz finally asked, her accent soothing in spite of the question.

  “Not really,” Steven said, finally sitting down at the kitchen table. “And Peter and Lily send their regards, by the way. I almost forgot to mention it, with all of this other stuff buzzing around in my head. Even when Mr. Faires gave me a raise, he didn’t ask me to spend time with him. He simply pulled me into his office, said I was getting a raise and it was because I did more than anyone else, and shooed me back out the door to my work.”

  He took a deep breath, and the scents of chicken, sweet potatoes, and biscuits met him with full force. His mouth watered, and he wondered what else would be for dinner.

  Within a few more moments, his daughter was in his arms and the table was being set. “Well, I guess only time will tell,” he said again when there was no reply.

  Only time would tell.

  “You know, maybe we pray about this,” Liraz said, heading to the bookcase and pulling out a worn King James Bible. She quickly brought it to the table with a shy smile.

  “Let me see… I know where I want to find. Will you read it?”

  She flipped through it for a while as the scents of dinner continued to tease and tantalize him. Steven shook his head to clear it. “Sure, I think that’s a good idea.”

  What he really wanted was to read it after he ate, but Liraz? He knew she wouldn’t give up until she had her way. He handed Shannen Rose back to Shannen in preparation of the reading that was to come, giving her a wink in the process.

  With arthritic, gnarled fingers, she passed the Bible to him and pointed at the page. “Chapter thirty-seven. Go ahead. Read through verse nine, please.”

  He looked down to the book of Psalms, found his place, and began to read:

  “Fret not thyself because of evildoers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity. For they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and wither as the green herb. Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.”

  He paused to take a few sips of water before resuming where he’d left off.

  “Delight thyself also in the Lo
rd: and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass. And he shall bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday. Rest in the Lord,” he continued, “and wait patiently for him: fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass. Cease from anger, and forsake wrath: fret not thyself in any wise to do evil. For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth.”

  And at that, closing the Bible, Steven moved into a word of prayer.

  With his stomach growling, he thanked God for such a wise Mother-in-Law, for their food, and for wisdom itself. He thanked Him for the ability to hear His voice, and to discern the best possible response to Mr. Faires’ request and the subsequent dinner meeting itself. Then, unable to resist food anymore, he picked his plate up from the table to be served, much to his wife’s delight.

  Fourteen

  Vancouver, Washington… May 6, 2020

  Edward watched from the couch as the kids did their homework at the table nearby, grateful to be feeling useful again. Confetti was keeping him company, her curly little body wrapped into a ball in his lap, purring and occasionally mewling in her sleep.

  It was good to have a cat around again… and even better to be home with his family. To see their smiling faces and know that God had everything under control and had given them, yet again, the opportunity to share a testimony of His great care and love for them, in spite of how things had looked, sounded and felt when he was in the hospital.

  While he still had to take things easy, his doctors had given permission to proceed with living his life more normally. The house had been combed through not once, but three times, for chemicals before they’d allowed him back home, and for good reason.

  “Had you not passed out when you had,” Dr. Tripoli – the expert Dr. Little had referred his case to after the first few days of testing, and who had been in charge of his overall care while in the hospital so many weeks – had told him, “your heart may well have stopped. Your brain saved your life, even if it scared us all. With the noxious fumes that were affecting your body, and the imbalances elsewhere, you should be dead, young man. I think it’s safe to say that someone or something was watching out for you.”

  And with that comment, Edward was able to give the duo of doctors a testimony. If I don’t say something now, will I in the future, he asked himself before launching into the briefest synopsis he could manage.

  Yes, there was Someone watching out for him… there always had been, and always would be, he told them as they watched him curiously from the comfort of the couch they sat on. God had spared his life not once, not twice, but three times, as far as he was concerned… probably more… and there was nothing he didn’t trust God with… not anymore.

  Not after the experiences he and his family had been through.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he told them as he took in the shag of salt and pepper hair, the deeply lined map of wrinkles that time and stress had etched into Dr. Tripoli’s weathered face. Though she was barely sixty, the woman looked closer to seventy-five.

  “I’ve got issues like everyone else does, and times where I question things, but in the long run, I just know God’s got me. I know He’s watching over me; watching over my family. I know that, despite the medical traumas, despite the stuff we’ve been through personally involving other major issues, God is in my corner. If you could watch a movie of my life, you’d definitely see the trend…”

  Dr. Little glanced over to Dr. Tripoli, who now had tears in her eyes. The man grunted and stood.

  “Well, this is all fascinating, but I have rounds to do. Whatever it was that saved you, Mr. Stuart,” he had said, clasping his fat little hands together, “we’re glad you’re doing better now.”

  And with that, he had walked away, leaving Edward and Dr. Tripoli watching his back receding down the hospital hallway.

  “Thank you, Mr. Stuart. I appreciate your insights… and I very much have to agree. Around here, unless a patient brings God up first, we aren’t exactly encouraged to discuss topics related to faith. But I’m glad you took the step when I hinted,” the woman had told him, smiling. “Most people wouldn’t take the time.”

  Confetti resituated herself as Edward’s thoughts came back to the present. Yes, he thought, I’m glad I took the step, too. I’m not sure I would have had the courage in a room with more people in it… even though it’s so evident God did a miracle.

  “Papa,” Cherish asked him, redirecting his thoughts yet again, her voice startling him just enough to jump.

  “Papa, can you help me with this?” She moved toward him from the table with a handful of papers. “I can’t get this right, ever… never, ever! It’s just too hard.”

  When had her hands and cheeks begun to lose their pudginess? Had it been while he was in the hospital, or had he simply not noticed before now?

  “What do you need help with, Mon Ange,” he asked her as she handed him the papers and sat down next to him.

  He carefully glanced through the homework with his good eye, wishing for the millionth time that the blurriness in the other would clear and his sight would become more normal again: counting and math. Again.

  “Ah… let’s see what we’ve got,” he said, trying to recover some cheer. “Why don’t you go find your sack of beans and we shall work them out together, alright?”

  Though the school year was almost over, math was still difficult for Cherish, as it had been for Duncan before her. Somehow, Chosen had done well with counting, and still did. They had learned with Duncan that if they used beans or macaroni to help the kids keep count, it seemed to work better.

  “But, Papa… I don’t want to use beans again. I’m tired of using beans. How come Chosen can do his without them, and I can’t,” she asked, pouting. “It isn’t fair!”

  With that, she got back up abruptly, startling both Edward and Confetti, and ran away into her room, slamming the door behind her.

  “I hate math! Hate it, hate it, hate it,” she shouted before shrieking at the top of her lungs a few times.

  Confetti stretched and walked a few paces away from him before curling up on the cushion next to him, her bright red, black, blonde and white fur crinkling up into a ball. How the cat could remain so calm when Edward’s nerves were so shot from the outburst was beyond him… didn’t most cats run and hibernate?

  He sure wanted to.

  Now what, Lord? You’ve saved me again, and for this, he prayed, closing his eyes against the world around him for a few moments.

  I know it was hard on my family that I wasn’t here. I know it was hard on the kids to see me in the hospital and not have an understanding of what was happening to me. It was hard on all of us. So please, Lord, can You give me a break here? Will You restore our family, restore us to a healthy life together? I can’t do this alone… life has piled up and I feel like I’ve been left behind in the silent vortex of the coma I’m no longer in, O God! You gave us an amazing miracle, and in spite of that, there’s still a wake of pain so vast it reaches beyond where I can touch it; what I can see. And I just don’t know what to do anymore… not without Your guidance.

  “Want me to go get her again,” Duncan piped up, nodding his head in the direction of the hallway. “’Cause if we got to do our homework now, so does Cherish, doesn’t she? It’s only fair!”

  With a sigh, Edward shook his head and carefully stood.

  “It’s alright, young man. I think she just needs some time to cool down. I’ll check on her in a little while. In the meantime… you boys hungry? I think your Mama left us something to snack on in the fridge.”

  “I’ll get it,” Chosen yelled, quickly dropping his pencil and racing for the kitchen. “I helped with snacks this morning. I know where it is and everything.”

  Edward followed his son at a slower pace, and he could hear Duncan scrambling to h
ead for the kitchen, as well.

  “Alright, alright,” he acquiesced. “Since you’re already in there anyway. Duncan, maybe you can help with plates, and I’ll get the silverware? Maybe by the time we get everything ready, your sister will have calmed down enough to at least join us to eat.”

  Paloma walked in the door to find four very despondent-looking people.

  “What happened while I was gone, you guys,” she asked her family, who were camped around the dining room table finishing up the pear torte and berries she’d prepared for after supper.

  Had they really eaten their snack, and dinner’s dessert, too? Seriously?

  She sighed to herself as she sat down with them all. Nobody replied…

  Not even Edward.

  “I said, what’s going on,” she repeated herself, making sure to make eye contact with each one, difficult as it was when they kept turning away from her.

  With one slice of the torte left, she slowly reached for the pan and, picking it up, went to grab a fork and came back to the table.

  “Alright, since we’re not talking,” she said. “I guess I’ll let it go for now, but eventually, we’re going to have to discuss what’s going on.”

  She took a bite of her torte and reveled in it a moment before bringing her attention back to her unhappy little family. “Well, I don’t know about any of you, but I think some peace would be a really good thing around here.”

  Edward grunted and nodded his head in agreement.

  Finally, someone interacts, she thought as she took another bite.

  Lord, I’m not sure what’s been happening here today, but it’s apparent that we really need Your help in ways I couldn’t have imagined as we rang in the New Year. Who would have thought we’d go through another health ordeal, and end up with miracle after miracle, once more. But how can we show You gratitude when we can’t even get it together enough to communicate with one another? And how can we get back on track with You when we seem so far away?