Angel Baby (Heaven Can Wait)

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Angel Baby (Heaven Can Wait) Page 12

by Laura Marie Altom


  Leon honked again.

  Mouth dry, he looked to the back door. “Guess I’d better go.”

  “Yeah,” she licked her lips, and damn if her robe hadn’t fallen the rest of the way open, giving him a clear view of all he was missing. Full breasts, gently rounded belly perfect for holding. Then there were those white lace scraps serving as panties…

  “I’ll miss you.” She smoothed his hair. “Gotta have my guy looking good.”

  “Thanks.” He caught her hand, giving her fingers a quick squeeze. He looked out the door toward his cook, then back to her. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  He winked. “Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” The way she stood there in a pink satin robe—a never-worn gift he’d given Geneva—her hair all morning-mussed, she looked the very embodiment of her name. Angel. Impossibly pretty, impossible to hold—a fleeting spirit to look at but never touch.

  “Good.”

  That same crazy urge to kiss her welled in his throat again but, as he did with all his urges these days, he squelched it, choosing instead to walk out the door. But then he was back. “Almost forgot,” he said, rushing inside. A jog across the kitchen landed him in front of Katie. He kissed her forehead, rubbed her tummy and tweaked her button nose. “Bye-bye, sweetie. Be good for Mommy.”

  Mommy. How easy the word came. Just as easy as the lie.

  Leon honked again, this time twice—each blast with extra urgency.

  “Okay,” Jonah said with a fortifying breath and smile. “All that other stuff was just a drill. This time I’m really leaving.”

  Where’s my kiss? Angel longed to ask as Jonah ducked out the back door, leaving her with nothing more than a grin so sexy her heart skipped a beat.

  Flattening her palm against the cool windowpane, she closed her stinging eyes.

  Patience.

  All their marriage needed was time.

  Though she knew little more about what had driven her and Jonah apart than that she’d left both him and the baby, it was more than enough to tell her Jonah was justified in his distrust.

  What she needed was to inch by inch bring him back to the magical place she knew they used to share.

  “Damn, boy,” Leon said when Jonah bounded into the old Ford truck. “Took you long ’nuff. If I din’t know better, I’d’ve thought you had a woman locked up in there.”

  Leon was Chevis’s brother-in-law.

  When the diner had started nose-diving to the point where Jonah had known he’d have to start letting people go, Chevis had volunteered to leave first, seeing as how, when he wasn’t out fishing, he made extra money doing yard work. In confidence, Chevis had told Jonah that since Leon’s wife, Delilah, spent nearly every dime Leon brought home on fancy church hats and shoes—not to mention the fact that their son and three grandkids had moved back in—he needed the steady income more.

  “A woman, huh?”

  “Stands to reason.” Leon ground his truck into gear. “After all, why else would you be needin’ a ride to work when your truck’s sittin’ there lookin’ perfectly healthy to me?”

  Jonah shot him a sideways glance. “Out with it. What’s Del heard?”

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  By the time Leon lurched his truck into its usual spot behind the diner, Jonah had told him the gist of Angel’s story—leaving out the parts about his downright shameful attraction.

  “Like her, don’t ya?”

  “S’cuse me?” Jonah choked while climbing out of the truck.

  “You heard me. Del says her cousin Kendra saw you two drivin’ in from Little Rock last night. Said that woman of yours was sittin’ real close.”

  “Give me a break.” Jonah slid his key into the diner’s back door. “She fell asleep on me, that’s all.” Stepping inside and flicking on the lights, he added, “For all I know, she’s got a husband and kids out there, which makes her strictly off limits.”

  “Um hmm.” Leon trailed after him. “You jest keep right on talkin’. Maybe sooner or later you’ll even start believin’ yourself.”

  As usual, the diner smelled of decades’ worth of bacon, coffee, and cheeseburgers. Jonah drew strength from the familiar scents, as he did from the muted rush of the river winding its way through Blue Moon’s downtown.

  “Mornin’, Jonah. Leon.” Pauline, his morning-shift waitress and Precious’s mother, paraded through the back door with a pat of her helmet hairdo and a bold wink. Her daily uniform consisted of the pale blue dress Jonah provided topped off with a sparkly silver apron, to which she pinned photo buttons of her daughter’s many shining moments. There was the ninth-grade baton twirl-off she won down in Searcy. Her annual cheerleader uniform shots, going back all the way to peewee football. Two prom pics, and even a shot of Precious doing a perfect split at last year’s Fourth of July picnic. Pauline’s passion was pageants, so her every move was calculated to win a judge’s eye—not for herself, but for her daughter. Seeing as how you never knew when the judge of a local pageant might wander in, all those pictures of her pride and joy ensured she never missed a chance to sing her baby’s praises. Hanging her silver-sequined purse on the hook beside the back door, she said to Jonah, “Heard you’ve got a houseguest.”

  “Oh?” Hoping if he ignored her she’d go away, Jonah headed for the front room to turn on the lights.

  No such luck. After applying her beaded name tag, Pauline followed. “Esther told my momma that she’s a real looker—has talent, too. Said if she so much as put on a little eyeliner and a touch of mascara she’d be a shoo-in for at least Miss White River—that is, if she weren’t already married with a baby.”

  “Yeah!” Leon shouted from behind his grill. “Jonah’s baby!”

  “All right, that’s enough,” Jonah said, midway between the two. “Just to set the story straight, sometime Saturday night she must’ve wandered into the ladies’ room, ’cause that’s where I found her after closing. Next thing I knew, she had Katie in her arms and the little traitor was eating like there was no tomorrow. Somewhere in her travels the lady lost her memory, so I volunteered to keep her with me till Sam gets a handle on where she’s supposed to be. End of story. Satisfied?”

  Pauline turned to Leon. “My sister, Melvine, said her best friend, Nancy, saw Jonah and this mystery woman cozied up in his truck last night when they came into town from Little Rock.”

  “You don’t say…” Leon separated sausage patties and slapped them on the grill. “My wife’s cousin Kendra saw the same thing. We think the boss here’s got a thing for that mystery woman.”

  Pauline cast him an understanding nod. “Would only be natural, what with her saving his baby.”

  “That’s what we thought,” Leon said.

  Jonah frowned. “Would you two listen to yourselves? Hell, here I don’t even know the woman’s real name and you’ve got me married off. I’m giving the lady a place to stay until Sam finds her rightful home. That’s it.”

  “You know, Jonah,” Pauline parked her hand on his shoulder, green eyes brimming with concern, “I’m here if you ever want to talk to me—you know, about your understandable attraction. Melvine said Nancy—you know, her friend who owns the Kut and Kurl—well, she said that, even from behind, she could tell this woman of yours had really great hair—maybe she’s even a natural blond. Nancy couldn’t tell with it almost being dark and all if she had any roots.”

  “Really?” Jonah raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised with that X-ray vision of hers, Nancy didn’t catch me slipping my hand up Angel’s dress.”

  “No sir,” Leon said with extra conviction. “That couldn’t have happened even if you tried.”

  “And how do you know that?” Jonah turned his fury from Pauline to him.

  “’Cause Esther told Frieda Wilcox your woman wore jeans and one of Geneva’s old hippy shirts to the Little Rock doctor.”

  From there, Jonah’s day wouldn’t have needed much more to go straight down the t
oilet and, luckily, Fate stood close by, ready, willing and able to give him a shove.

  By noon, the coffee machine gave up the ghost. Some crazy woman must’ve called eight times, dialing the diner as a wrong number. The last stall in the men’s room john overflowed. And, to top all that off, they’d had only a whopping six customers after the usual breakfast rush.

  Around two, he sent Pauline home early to watch her soaps and sew beads on one of Precious’s pageant gowns. Fortunately, Pauline’s husband was an engineer at the town’s only factory—a BB gun plant—so she really didn’t need the money she earned. She just liked to have a little of her own cash to subsidize her penchant for sparkle. So far, Precious had only won the title of Grape Queen way over in Tontitown, but Pauline had set her sights on one day having her daughter be crowned no less than Miss Arkansas herself. Although judging by Pauline’s tenacity, Jonah wouldn’t be surprised to one day see Precious crowned Miss America—or, at the very least, Miss Ed’s Tire, Brake & Transmission.

  Worrying at her lower lip with her front teeth, Angel snuggled Lizzy closer. She grasped her basket with the same hand she had tucked beneath Lizzy’s ruffled rump, and rapped on Esther’s front door.

  A quick peek past parted curtains netted the discovery of no lights. Beyond the sound of the next closest neighbor’s chugging tractor, all else was quiet.

  For early March, the day was sheer perfection. Not a breath of wind, a downright balmy temperature and the whole valley fairly glowed with the promise of spring. On the far porch rail, a pair of wrens squabbled. Lizzy grinned at their antics.

  “Well, sweetie,” Angel said to the baby, “looks like our mission failed. Miss Esther isn’t home.”

  After one more peek through the window, Angel turned away from the door to head for the stairs, secretly relieved to have been temporarily reprieved from making nice. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be friendly with their neighbor—she very much did. The truth of the matter was that, with all Jonah had told her about how well-loved Esther was in their small town, Angel was more than a little intimidated. While Angel might not have known much about herself, one thing she knew for sure was that she had a deep need to be accepted. To truly belong.

  “Thought I heard company.” Esther, dressed in overalls, grass-stained sneakers, a red T-shirt and a big straw hat, ambled up the stairs and onto the porch.

  “Hi,” Angel said. Heart in her throat, she hated feeling as if she had to have this woman’s approval. Still, she was here now, so she might as well follow through with what she’d come to do. She held out the basket she’d found in the pantry. “I made these for you.”

  “Oh?” Esther took the gift and lifted the green gingham dishtowel covering two dozen oatmeal cookies. Angel had wanted to add raisins, but they’d been out, and she sure didn’t want to pad the grocery bill with extras.

  You mean extras on top of the beer you had to buy Jonah to replace the ones you dumped?

  “Hope you like oatmeal.” Angel shifted Lizzy to her other arm. “I feel bad about the other day and then, when Lizzy made such a fuss…Well...” She flopped her free hand. “Jonah said you wouldn’t accept money for spending so much time with her, but I thought...”

  “You thought right.” Esther gave her hand a firm squeeze. “I’ve been out in the garden and could use a snack. With this warm weather, I’m plantin’ early. Worked up a powerful hunger and thirst. Care to share a few of these cookies and a glass of lemonade? It’s just from mix, but still wet.”

  “Thanks,” Angel said. “That’d be nice.” But what was even nicer was the almost giddy feeling of acceptance Esther’s casual invitation brought on.

  Trailing after the older woman into her shadowy house, it wasn’t the faint scent of menthol rub that caught Angel’s attention or the tinny country song playing on the radio in the kitchen. It was the wall behind the silent TV that screamed loudest for attention. The whole thing—top to bottom—was covered with love. Blue-backed pictures of grinning elementary school kids missing their front teeth. Hundreds of crayon drawings of sunshine and horses and rainbows. Even a couple of pinup posters of hunky, half-naked men.

  “Pretty neat, huh?” Esther caught Angel staring.

  “Amazing.”

  “I’ve only been keepin’ ’em for the last couple years. Whenever I get to feelin’ lonely, I look over at my happy wall and everything just seems better.” Esther looked her direction. “Aw, now, what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” Angel swiped at a few tears, before blasting her new friend with what she hoped was her brightest smile. “Absolutely nothing is wrong with me. Just looking forward to that lemonade.” And to the day when I’ve earned as much love from my friends and family as you.

  Ha! said the dark voice in her head. You? Earning love? That’ll be the day.

  Angel massaged her temple, warding off the accompanying flash of pain.

  Esther eyed her but didn’t say much other than, “Here, take a glug of liquid refreshment, then follow me. There’s more work to do.”

  Ten minutes later, Angel had been taught the fine art of deadheading marigolds. Esther explained she’d grown them for months from seed in her greenhouse. She had all sizes, shapes and colors, ranging from deep orange to sunshine yellow.

  While Lizzy lounged on a blanket beneath the cool shade of a red bud, Angel laughed and laughed over Ester’s recollections of Jonah as a little boy. Picturing him as an eight-year-old, dressed in his best cowboy duds selling gold-painted rocks he claimed were nuggets straight from his mine only made her love him more.

  “Tell me what you remember about me,” Angel asked once they’d finished with the marigolds and weeded the rest of the bed.

  Esther wiped her forehead with a hanky she’d tucked into one of her overalls’ many pockets. “Downright unnatural heat for this time of year.”

  “Please?” Angel urged from her seat on the porch steps. “Anything you could tell me I’d be grateful for. Jonah, he—” She looked down, wringing her hands on her lap. “Well, he says the doctor told him it’d be best for me to remember everything on my own, but...”

  “But it’d be easier if I told you everything I know now?”

  Grinning, Angel nodded.

  Her new friend patted her knee. “Sorry, child. Much as I’d like to help, I promised Jonah I wouldn’t interfere.” She snorted. “Not that he has a clue what he’s doin’, but I pride myself in always stickin’ by a promise.”

  “Appreciate it, Leon.” At eight that night—due to the lack of customers, he’d closed early—Jonah climbed out of the truck. Hand on the still open door, he said, “See you same time tomorrow?”

  “Wouldn’t miss hearing your next soap installment.” Leon winked.

  Still shaking his head when he walked in the back door, Jonah had to look twice to make sure he’d entered the right house.

  Angel sat at the table wearing a lacy ivory dress. She wore her hair up with a few spiraling tendrils kissing her cheeks. “Hi,” she said, her smile unusually shy. “Lizzy’s already tucked in for the night, so I thought we’d have a party.”

  From the oven came a tantalizing cheesy aroma. Let the festivities begin!

  Seeing his pretend wife all dolled up and smelling a great dinner were both things he’d halfway expected, since she’d called him about six, asking him not to eat at the diner. The kitchen, on the other hand, blew him away.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I know it was probably me who picked out that horrible silver wallpaper in the first place, but I was rummaging through the attic and came across this. Much better, don’t you think?”

  The new-and-improved paper boasted a clean white background with a field of intertwining daisies. Just weeks before Jonah’s mom died, while he’d been living in an apartment down by the railroad tracks, she’d custom-ordered it from Day Glow Interiors. He hadn’t had the heart to take it back, so he’d stashed it in the attic, paste and all. Years later, he came across it while putting up Chris
tmas decorations. He asked Geneva if she wanted him to replace the faded calico. Oh, she’d replaced it all right. With her very own kitchen night club! Now, smelling the paper’s newness, sensing how happy his finicky mother would be to see Geneva’s disco stripes forever gone… Well, damn, if he wasn’t tearing up.

  “Jonah? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make waves. If you liked the other paper better, it pulled off easy. Maybe I can salvage some from the trash?”

  “No.” He pulled her out of her chair and into a spontaneous hug. “Hell, no. I like this much better.” Releasing her, he told her about his mom spending a month picking it out, and how she never got to see it hung. And how some small part of him felt better now that the job was finally done. Laughing, he said, “What is it about you that keeps making me spill my guts?”

  “Beats me,” she said with a flirty batting of her lashes. “Guess it’s my irresistible McBride charm.”

  As rotten as his day had been, his night was that good.

  Her spicy chicken and cheese casserole hit his burger-weary taste buds like ambrosia. But, as great as her cooking tasted, her conversation was even better.

  After giving him a glowing report on his daughter, Angel mentioned listening to a radio talk show while she’d papered and he mentioned having heard the same show. After a good-natured political debate, she asked what he planned to do with the garden plot out back, and if he’d mind if she redeemed her murder of all the houseplants by trying her hand at growing a food crop.

  Over dessert—a pineapple upside-down cake brought over by Esther—Angel asked, “You probably would’ve already told me if you’d heard, but did Sam ever find out what happened to our car?”

  Wham. Just like that, she unwittingly jolted Jonah from his fantasy that this kind of domestic bliss was to be his every night for the rest of his life. “Nope. He’s still trying, though.”

  “What about insurance and replacing my license? I know you’re busy. Want me to call?”

  “Um, no. I’ll handle it.”

  “Really, I don’t mind. It’d be no big deal for me to make a couple calls.”

 

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