Angela glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes sparkling with laughter, and nodded once in satisfaction. Then she went back to work on the books with Holly. They concluded that all the books could be salvaged with a little work and tender loving care. Holly took them upstairs to deposit in one of Angela's storage rooms.
Maurice supposed since Angela could create rooms as she had need, she probably had a room tucked away in a spare dimension of reality full of all the tools and materials needed to restore books.
He kind of liked it that Holly cared about books. Then again, from some of the things she'd said as she and Angela examined the rescued books, he guessed she was a librarian. He kind of liked her for rescuing books that were about to be discarded, for Angela to mend and put on her shelves. Despite his adventurer reputation, he did love to fall into a book and travel through his imagination.
Come to think of it, Holly looked like a librarian--although she needed wire-rimmed spectacles and a skirt down below her calves, instead of patched jeans, faux-fur boots, and an oversized white Mickey Mouse sweatshirt. Her hair, when she pulled off her Cleveland Browns stocking cap, disappointed him. He expected frizzy red to go with all those freckles and her pale complexion. It was more a dishwater brown, straight, with a few specks of ginger, and damp from the exertion of carrying those books.
"So... I love a good book," he said, when Holly stepped out of the room. "But please, please don't tell me she's my first assignment. I mean, she's cute for a librarian, but I don't do makeovers."
"You might be surprised, if you got to know Holly. Maybe she doesn't need a makeover at all."
"Yeah? Without one, how am I ever going to dupe some schmoe into falling in love with her?"
"You have a lot to learn," she responded quietly. "How about you get an eagle's eye view of things?" Her smile turned sweet, and Maurice had the awful feeling that when Angela looked sticky sweet, she was more dangerous than the entire Fae Disciplinary Council with malfunctioning magic, jazzed on diet cherry cola.
"What's that mean?" He didn't bother with bravado, but at least his voice didn't quaver. He was only five inches tall, after all, and she was his probation officer.
"You'll find out."
* * *
Divine Christmas
Christmas at Divine's Emporium was a study in organized, merry chaos. Ken Jenkins retreated to the sidelines and watched nearly a dozen people help Angela decorate the tree and string pine garland from room to room. He had done his part by bringing the granddaddy pine tree to the shop on the roof of his car and helping manhandle the monster in through the side door. A side door that only seemed to be visible at Christmastime.
Funny, but today the ceilings seemed five feet higher than usual. Maybe it was just an optical illusion. Things always seemed to work out just the way Angela needed them to, inside her shop. Sometimes it seemed like the walls adjusted to comfortably fit everything she put inside the store. Too bad the rest of the world didn't reshape itself to accommodate Angela's friends.
Ken snorted softly at his flight of fancy. He had given up on magic long ago. Not that he wouldn't appreciate a bit now. This first Christmas without Brittney was one of those grit your teeth and face it like a man situations, since this should have been his first Christmas with Brittney.
It would be a lot easier if he wouldn't have to face his ex-wife traipsing around the company Christmas extravaganza in two weeks, on the arm of Allistair Somerville.
From the moment they'd ended up in the same nursery school, Allistair had decided that whatever Ken had was his to take. And if he couldn't steal or bully it away from Ken, he lied and complained and whined until someone gave it to him to shut him up. All through school, no matter how big or small, whatever Ken prized or needed, Allistair went after--even if he discarded it a day or a month or a year later. Ken's rubber ball. His tricycle. His lunch money. His basketball. His BMX bike. His homework. His prom date. His promotion to junior vice president at Myerhausen, four months ago.
And Brittney, two months ago.
Brittney had tried for three years to get Allistair's attention. He'd ignored her until she caught on to the one-sided rivalry between the two men and started dating Ken. That was when Allistair saw the light and went after her in a big way. Big gifts. Big schemes to derail Ken's plans for dates with Brittney. Even two attempts to get Ken transferred to another division of Myerhausen, out of state.
Brittney had rejected Allistair until she had Ken's ring on her finger. Ken had suspected her of using him to get Allistair interested, until he showed her the engagement ring. She'd tackled him, nearly knocking him out of his chair with her kisses. They were barely to their four-month anniversary when she met Allistair for a discrete lunch. Two of Ken's buddies from college had seen them and told him. Brittney had lied to Ken. He'd chosen to believe her, because he thought she had better taste. She'd dangled Allistair four more months, dumping Ken at their eight-month anniversary.
Merry Christmas? Ken didn't think so.
All he wanted for Christmas was a date to the company party. One who would make Brittney jealous enough to dive headfirst into a vat of ice cream and not come out until she had lost her uber-slim super-model look. He especially wanted a girl with the brains and good taste to laugh in Allistair's face when he made a play for her. Because he would make a play for her, just because Ken had her.
If Ken didn't have his suspicions about the increasingly warm friendship between Lanie Zephyr and her boss, the owner of the Neighborlee Tattler, he would have asked Lanie to pretend to be his girlfriend. That, and the fact that Lanie was in a wheelchair.
He thought Lanie was great. If he didn't have a raw wound where his heart used to be, he might pursue her as a girlfriend someday. Ken didn't think he was a snob against the physically handicapped, but even if Lanie were pretty enough to elicit jealousy from Brittney, his soon-to-be-ex-wife was too shallow to see the woman inside the wheelchair. All she would see was the handicap, and she wouldn't be jealous. The whole point of finding someone new and wonderful was to make her jealous. And Allistair thought anybody in a wheelchair had a communicable disease, so there was no chance he would go after Lanie. Although it would certainly be fun to see her shred Allistair with her finely honed, slightly lunatic sense of humor that had made her a popular local comedienne.
And there was that friendship between Lanie and Daniel Swaggertson that sure looked like a whole lot more than friendship and being fellow commanders in the local Star Trek club.
"Perfect," Angela sighed as she stepped back from the tree. "Thank you, everyone. I don't know how I would have done it without your help." She turned, her long, gleaming golden hair swirling out from around her like a satin cape.
"You don't need anyone's help, Angela," the kid in baggy jeans and oversized gray sweatshirt said from his perch on the front counter. "If we hadn't stopped in to help, you would have just called the elves, and they would have decorated." He nodded for punctuation, his ball cap shadowing his face.
His remark earned laughter from the others around the tree. Ken laughed along with them. The boy was right. Angela always managed to work miracles, and Divine's Emporium seemed to be a source of never-ending strange and wonderful things and occurrences. Sometimes it seemed like new rooms appeared with new merchandise. Such a notion made no sense, but Ken had learned to leave logic behind at the doorstep of Divine's and simply enjoy the experience. Angela always had advice and something to suit everyone's need, so when she needed help, there was always someone ready and willing.
Dozens of metallic, rainbow-streaked balls, miniatures of the Wishing Ball on the front counter, covered the tree. Ken admired the ornaments and longed for the ability to believe in magic long enough to wish on the Wishing Ball. But if magic was real, then belief was the key ingredient in making it work. If he couldn't believe, no matter how strong and real the magic was, it wouldn't work for him.
"Just for that, Jo," Angela said to the boy on the counter, "you get the fi
rst wish."
Ken caught his breath. Wishes? He laughed silently at himself. Such coincidences happened on a regular basis at Divine's. Even if there was no more magic left in the world for him, that didn't mean that other people couldn't believe and enjoy.
"Make a wish?" Jo's voice cracked with laughter and a cold. The kid hopped down off the counter and stepped over to the Wishing Ball. The rainbow metallic ball in its stylized dragon stand seemed to glow with a light of its own.
"Not there." Angela gestured at the tree. "Here. Hold an ornament in both your hands, and make a wish."
"That's easy." Jo wiped his grimy hands on the seat of his jeans and reached for an ornament. "I wish I had a job. Better than my paper route." He grinned over his shoulder at Angela. "Better hours, no riding around while everybody else is asleep. Indoors, please."
Ken could have sworn he saw the Christmas tree angel lean down and shake glitter on the boy's baseball cap.
Shaking his head, he wondered if he had been pushing himself too hard at work. Now he was hallucinating. It had been an illusion, brought on by fatigue and the shifting lights in the shop. Still, he could have sworn Angela glared up at the angel and gave it a little warning shake of her head.
Maybe instead of worrying about his date for the company Christmas party, he should just ask for the entire month off and go to some place quiet and restful.
"Oh, no you don't," Angela said, when Jo made a move to put the ornament back on the tree. "How can your wish come true if you don't take it home with you?"
"I don't have a tree." The boy moved to hang up the ornament again.
"It's still three weeks until Christmas," she retorted, and closed the boy's hands around the ornament again. "Something might happen between now and then." She met Jo's eyes until the boy gave in and tucked the ornament into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. Angela nodded, satisfied, and looked around the room. "Ken?" She winked at him when he startled. "Your turn next."
"But--"
"You don't have to say your wish out loud. It won't negate what you wish for." She glanced at Jo.
The boy stuck his tongue out. Under the grime on his face, the strands of dusty cobweb hanging from the brim of his ball cap, his face looked delicate. Ken couldn't remember seeing him in the shop before. Maybe he was new to town? Sickly?
Make a wish. Ken fought back a snort of skepticism. Such an attitude didn't belong at Divine's. He walked down the aisle of display shelves to the tree. When he picked his ornament, he glanced up at the angel.
It winked at him.
He flinched. I wish--I need--a date for the company Christmas party. Someone really classy. A real lady. Someone wonderful. Someone who'll stick around forever. After all, if he was going to take a chance on wishes, why not go for broke? And if Allistair would show his true colors in front of Myerhausen and the whole company, that'd be great, too.
He stepped over to the far end of the counter and watched Jo while the other members of the decorating party made their wishes. Some spoke aloud, others stayed silent, as he had. Ken remembered when he had been part of the laughing and teasing, the complaints about the crowds at the malls, comparing plans for holiday celebrations. It felt like a lifetime ago.
Jo didn't join in the teasing, which reinforced Ken's suspicion the kid was new in town and didn't know many people. Poor kid, looking for work while he was still in school. He wondered if Jo was from the orphanage. Angela had a habit of befriending the kids who lived there, always finding odd jobs for them in her shop or other shops in Neighborlee.
If you want good things to happen in your life, his mother used to say, you should make good things happen for other people.
"I swear," Diane, one of Angela's regular clerks said, laughing, "you get a bigger tree every year, but it's never a problem."
"We don't believe in problems at Divine's Emporium." Angela looked positively prim in her smugness. "You've worked for me long enough to know that."
"Just solutions and miracles," Jo said. "Christmas is the right time of year for miracles, that's for sure." He smiled, but there was something wistful in his expression, and that decided Ken.
"Hey, Jo." Ken dug in his wallet for a business card. He held it out to the boy, whose eyes were bright blue in a mask of grime earned by helping lug boxes of decorations up from Angela's basement. "Take this to the Human Resources director at Myerhausen. She'll find you a job."
Jo's eyes went wide and his long, delicate fingers twitched as he took the card. He grinned and two splotches of color brightened his cheeks. "Thanks--uh," he glanced at the card, "Ken. That's really nice of you."
"That's one wish already come true," Angela said.
"I haven't even applied yet." The boy laughed.
"Oh ye of little faith. Where's your Christmas spirit?" She wrapped an arm around Ken's shoulder for a brief hug. "I think I can guarantee your wish will come true."
"I didn't do it to make my wish work," Ken muttered. He hated it when his face got so hot. Brittney had always teased him about being able to use his face for a warning beacon.
"That's exactly why it'll work." Angela winked at them both and walked on past to talk to Jane, the owner of New Look Spa.
"Good luck," Ken said, and held out his hand. He caught his breath when a spark shot up his arm at the touch of Jo's warm, smooth hand in his grasp.
His last task before he left the decorating party was to haul two big plastic garbage bags to the back storage room. Ken made a mental note to remember to come back on garbage day and haul them out front to the curb --especially if more snow was predicted.
Angela was waiting for him when he picked up his coat from the pile in one of the side rooms. "I hope you don't think making that wish was a waste of time." She rested a hand on his arm.
"I'm not exactly in a mood for believing in wishes and magic anymore." He felt almost ashamed to say that to her. What was Divine's Emporium, if not a magical place?
Angela sighed, and the sympathy in her eyes was warming, soothing, and didn't tie him up in knots inside like the sympathy he saw in other people. That was part of the magic of this place, too, he realized. A magic he could still believe in, maybe even needed, desperately.
"Just because Brittney used you to get Allistair's attention doesn't mean you, Ken Jenkins, are worthless. And just because she didn't value your love doesn't mean you're a fool. There is still magic in this world. There is still true love. And those who are willing to look for magic and love will find them. Take a chance."
* * * *
Jo sighed as the last few people left the decorating party. Only she, Angela and Holly were left. She watched Ken stride out the front door, into the swirling snow. His shoulders were bowed like Santa Claus carrying an impossibly heavy pack.
He seemed like Santa Claus right now. In the three years since she had moved to Neighborlee to take care of Aunt Myrtle, Jo had made many wishes at Divine's, but none had ever come true this fast and this clearly before.
She laughed silently at herself when she felt the business card crumple in her hot, grimy fist. A glance out the crowded front window showed Ken tugging his Neighborlee High School varsity jacket closer around his shoulders. Her smile faded as she remembered the stress lines around his mouth and eyes. Somebody needed to do something nice for him. How many people nowadays lifted their heads out of their own problems to help someone else?
"Hey, Angela?" She yanked her baseball cap off, letting her sweaty, toffee-colored curls fall down around her shoulders.
"What do I know about Ken Jenkins and Myerhausen?" The shop's proprietress leaned forward on her partially cleared counter, blue eyes sparkling. "Myerhausen is about eight miles north of Neighborlee. It handles a lot of the shipping, logistics and warehousing for companies around Cleveland. As for Ken..." She sighed and shook her head. "Ken is a nice guy who always lends a helping hand, but never seems to get a break."
"That's what I thought," Jo murmured. She thought of Ken's big, chocolate brown eye
s, his snub nose and his short-cropped hair. Something warmed deep inside, before she gave herself a mental shake. She had too many responsibilities to think about to get distracted, even by someone as nice as Ken.
"The two of you would make a nice couple..." Angela almost sang the words, under her breath.
"Don't even go there. Until Aunt Myrtle's hospital bills are all paid up, I'm too busy working three different jobs to have a social life, much less..." Jo sighed.
"Get distracted by really gorgeous eyes, a great smile and a truly nice guy?"
"Hormones. Especially if I end up working with, or even for, my Santa Claus. So Myerhausen does warehousing and shipping, huh? Well, that suits me. All my clothes look like this." She slapped at her grime-streaked clothes. "Working all the time has been great for my diet, but not my wardrobe."
Jo had worn her oldest clothes today to help haul boxes out of storage. Her good clothes weren't much better. She had lost a lot of weight since coming to Neighborlee, so her baggy clothes made her look like a ragamuffin. That hadn't mattered before, because her paper route and other odd jobs didn't leave her much time for socializing. With Aunt Myrtle's bills to pay off, she didn't have the money to shop for a new wardrobe now, either.
"You are not aiming at a dirty warehouse job," Angela scolded. "I have some nice dresses in the back, just perfect for an office job." She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, in the direction of the second-hand clothing room. "Holly, you helped me hang them up, you know where they are. Don't let her leave until she has something nice."
Holly saluted. She wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans as she crossed the room. When Jo didn't follow her immediately, Holly growled teasingly and grabbed hold of her hand. They went laughing through the doorway, Holly pretending to drag her.
The moment they vanished into the next room, the light in the main room lost some of its warmth. The Christmas tree shuddered. Angela's smiling mouth flattened and she glared at the top of the Christmas tree. The angel shot off apple green sparks, fluttered his wings, and slid down a succession of branches until he was eye-level with Angela. He used the last branch as a springboard and did a quadruple twist through the air to land on the counter in front of her.
Divine's Emporium Page 3