No, angels are another department entirely. I am someone who only comes to help when it appears there is no other recourse for that mortal. And you, my dear Libby, definitely fit in that category.
“Then why don’t you just show yourself, wave your wand or whatever and leave me do with my life as I wish?” At that moment, she felt a hand planted against her back pushing her forward. The swing swept upward. “All right! All right!” She put her feet down to stop the swing, skidding slightly in the dirt. “If you’re not a figment of my imagination, you’ll show yourself to me.”
Materializing is not a part of my job description.
Libby smiled in triumph. “Then you’re not real. And I would say in about ten minutes Tyler will come over here, tell me he’s sorry for what he’s done and that he wants me to come back to the house with him.”
And what do you want?
Libby took a deep breath. Perhaps talking to herself wasn’t so bad, after all. She could say what she wanted out loud and there was no one to censor her thoughts. She might even feel better after she’d gotten it out of her system.
“I want them to leave me alone. I want them to stop pretending Sara doesn’t exist any longer. I want to live my own life without them telling me what’s good for me,” she stated.
That sounds like something an adolescent would say in order to have his or her own way.
She shook her head. “No, it’s just that they don’t realize how important Sara was to me, and I can’t give her up just because they tell me to.”
What about Tyler? Is he not also important to you?
Libby felt a pang in the vicinity of her heart. “He’s very important to me,” she said softly. “But Sara was a wonderful part of both of us. She had my eyes and Tyler’s grin. And we had such plans for her.”
And now you’re angry at the world because she was taken away from you.
Libby straightened up at that statement. “Yes, I am,” she admitted. “It wasn’t fair that she died.”
And you’d be happier if they all left you alone so you could grieve for your child in peace.
Libby took a deep breath. “Yes.”
The moment she spoke, a cold wind sliced through her and she could see flurries of white drift around her.
“There wasn’t anything in the weather reports about snow tonight,” she murmured, tucking her hands in her coat pockets.
Perhaps it would be a good time for you to return home.
Libby pushed herself out of the swing and stood up. As she walked out of the park, she noticed the snow flurries were getting heavier, as if they were trying to wrap themselves around her. She was grateful for her heavy coat as she reached the sidewalk.
“You’d think Tyler would see the snow falling and drive down to pick me up,” she grumbled, ducking her head. “He had to have known I’d be here.”
Considering the way you’ve been behaving lately, you should be grateful he is even willing to speak to you.
“There’s nothing worse than a smart-ass voice,” she practically snarled.
Amazing. My last subject called me a voice with an attitude. Pride filled his words.
“I can see why.” She reached the end of her block and started up it. The streetlights had just come on to battle the early evening darkness. “I can’t believe how quickly this began. If it keeps up, the snowplows will have to come out to clear the streets.”
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
“Riddles. Now he gives me riddles.” Libby slowed her steps as she approached the house she thought was hers. It was hers, wasn’t it? Yes, the right numbers were painted on the exterior by the front door, but even in the dim light she could see the color wasn’t the same pale green she and Tyler had painted it a year ago.
Why was her house now dark blue with gray trim? Whose motorcycle was in the driveway? And why all that loud music? She punched the doorbell once, then several times more. The moment the door opened, she wished she hadn’t been so eager to get inside. The man standing before her wore tight jeans that couldn’t contain the belly hanging over it. His leather vest, worn with no shirt underneath, displayed the variety of tattoos dappling his forearms.
“Hey there, gorgeous, you here for the party?” He leered at her as he held up a beer can in a hand the size of a small ham.
Libby couldn’t stop staring back. Behind him, she could see a small crowd of men and women all drinking and dancing. She didn’t recognize any of them. She shook her head and backed away.
“Well, hell, come on in!” he boomed, waving his beer can around. “The more the merrier.”
“No,” she whispered, still backing away.
Come along, Libby.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered, once she reached the street.
Put your hand in your right pocket.
Libby did as she was told. Her fingers closed around cold metal, its sharp edges digging into her skin. She pulled it out and saw it was a key with a plastic tag hanging from it.
“This is from the Willow Hills Motel,” she murmured.
I suggest you pick up your pace, so you can return to your room before it gets much colder.
“My room? Why do I have a motel key in my pocket? Where’s Tyler? Why are all those strangers in my house? Why is it a different color? Where are all my flowers?” she asked in a lost-little-girl voice.
Go to the motel, Libby. I will explain it all when we arrive there. I promise.
Libby felt as if she were walking through cotton wool as she left the house she had thought her own and headed in the direction of the main part of town. Strangely, she didn’t feel cold any longer as she walked the many blocks toward the motel. She just put one foot in front of the other and kept on walking.
Your room is at the rear of the motel.
Libby inserted the key in the lock. The door opened to reveal a small room with a neatly made king-size bed. Three suitcases sat on the floor and the bathroom light was on. She slowly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. After her chilly walk, the hot air blasting at her felt welcome. She peeled off her coat and laid it across the chair.
“What is going on?” It wasn’t until then that she happened to look down at her left hand. It was bare of any jewelry. She cried out in shock and rubbed her third finger. There wasn’t even an indentation in the skin to indicate she had ever worn a ring.
“Where is my ring?” She looked around wildly, as if it would gleam in the darkness to help her find it. “It couldn’t have just slipped off!”
Why don’t you sit down while I explain this to you.
She sat, but couldn’t stop rubbing her bare ring finger.
“Fine, I’m sitting down. Now, if you’re not a figment of my imagination, you’ll make yourself visible and tell me why my house doesn’t look the same and why there were strangers there. And why I’m not wearing my wedding ring.” Hysteria rose up inside her.
I am not in the habit of making myself visible just because someone insists upon it.
“I’m this far—” she held her thumb and forefinger up a scant inch apart “—from screaming bloody murder. Let’s make it easier for both of us, shall we?”
Libby’s first warning that she truly wasn’t alone was a wisp of smoke that appeared by the chair. It swirled in odd patterns, then slowly formed into the figure of a man.
He didn’t appear very tall, about five foot ten inches or so. Brown hair rimmed his head, although the top was bald. Dark eyes peered at her with the wisdom of the ages. She wasn’t sure what she expected an “entity” to wear, but black pants and a black turtleneck wasn’t it. His arms were crossed in front of his chest.
“Well?” he asked.
For a moment she couldn’t speak.
“It’s happened. I’ve gone and lost my mind,” she murmured. “You’re not real. None of this is real. It’s all an ugly dream.”
“Oh, I’m real, all right.” He picked up her coat, shook it out, then hung it in the closet. He returned to the chair and sa
t down, carefully adjusting the crease in his pants. “My name is Matthias.”
“Matthias,” Libby repeated numbly. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. “What are you?”
He heaved a deep sigh. “I already explained to you, I am an entity. I am here to help you deal with your sorrow so you can go on with your life.”
“Then why the changes with my house?” she demanded. “Where’s Tyler? Why am I not wearing my wedding ring?”
Matthias sat back in the chair with his fingers pressed together in steeple fashion.
“Your ring no longer exists. Tyler as your husband doesn’t exist, and your house is no longer yours. And, since Tyler is not your husband, he is living on Grover Avenue in the house his parents left him.”
“What do you mean he’s living in the house his parents left him? They still live there! And how can you say Tyler isn’t my husband?”
He shook his head. “They moved to Arizona after his father retired.”
“That can’t be,” she protested. “His father retired and they stayed because they wanted to be here for the baby.”
“Things have changed, Libby,” Matthias explained in a patient voice.
She looked around the small room. “Such as my being in this motel room for some reason and not in my own house? Tyler’s gone, my ring is gone. My life is gone. Now you’re here to tell me what’s going on. But you’re not my guardian angel.”
He nodded. “That is correct. I merely guide you when you need guidance.”
“Fine. Then tell me why am I here and why my husband is somewhere else?”
“Because in your husband’s and your parents’ eyes you no longer exist.”
Libby froze. “Excuse me?”
Matthias smiled and settled back in the chair, looking proud of his accomplishment.
“It’s very simple. You said you did not want them in your life any longer and now they are not. You did not appreciate their interference, so now you are on your own.”
Libby was positive the world had started spinning crazily on its axis. She thought about saying something, but nothing came to mind at the moment.
She opted for the only action that seemed reasonable at the moment.
She fell backward unconscious on the bed.
Chapter Three
“It is situations such as this that make me prefer to work with men. At least men do not faint or grow hysterical.” A male voice intruded on Libby’s fuzzy world. “Well, there was that time with Henry VIII, but he was always a trial. The man refused to understand the problem was with him, not with his wives.”
“I never get hysterical,” Libby said in a weak voice. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at Matthias. “And what is this about you knowing Henry VIII? How old are you?”
“Too old for you to figure out,” he said smoothly. “Do you feel better now or do you require a glass of water?”
Libby sat up and raised a restraining hand. “No, I’m fine.” She paused. “I think.” She pressed her fingers against her forehead. She was surprised the skin didn’t burn under her touch. She took several deep breaths and discovered her stomach wasn’t going to go into upheaval the way she feared it would. She turned her head so she could see Matthias better. “You really knew Henry VIII?”
He rolled his eyes. “It was not one of my better assignments. All the man ever cared about was consuming as much food as he could in one sitting and finding himself a new wife.”
The teacher in Libby was fascinated. For a moment she wasn’t asking herself the logical question of how the man in front of her could have existed for as many centuries as he implied he had.
“Who else did you meet?” she asked.
He waved his hand in dismissal. “None of my assignments pertain to this case. What matters is you. Now, are you calm enough to listen to me?”
Her expression was wary as she nodded.
Matthias took the chair across from her. As he reached out his hand toward the table beside him, a glass of red wine appeared. He picked it up by its stem, then paused as good manners intruded.
“I apologize for my thoughtlessness. Would you care for some wine?”
She shook her head, amazed. “I think I would be better off with all my wits about me.”
He nodded. “Perhaps that would be best.” He sipped his wine and studied her with an air of contemplation. “It is natural that you would grieve for your daughter. After all, you had planned for her all your life, hadn’t you? When you were seven you had a baby doll you loved to distraction and you announced she looked just like your first child would. You named her Sara. You also assumed you would marry Tyler Barnes when you grew up.”
“How did you know all this?” Libby asked in a hushed voice, stunned by his knowledge.
“I read your file before I came down here,” he stated as if it were a given. “I know your older brother, Mike, pushed you off your bicycle when you were eight and your arm was broken as a result. Once your arm healed, you got even with him by covering his school project with superglue just before he picked it up. The doctor in the emergency room couldn’t stop laughing as he separated Mike’s hands from the display. Your parents took away your television privileges for two weeks.”
“It would have been a month, but they couldn’t stop laughing either, so I got off with two weeks,” she murmured, smiling at the memory. She quickly returned to the present. “I still don’t understand.”
Matthias looked pained. “As I explained, I am here because you have been grieving your daughter’s death for so long it has affected your entire family. You are in the process of alienating your husband and your family because you have completely shut them off from your feelings.”
She stiffened. “I always felt a mourning period was appropriate.”
“A mourning period cannot be forever. You have to go on with your life, Libby. You need to rediscover the richness you have within yourself.”
“And you think I will do this because I no longer have any of my family around me?”
Matthias continued sipping his wine. “That is correct. Isn’t that what you wanted, to be alone with your grief? You are here as Libby Douglas. You moved here for a new job. The person you are replacing is going on maternity leave and doesn’t plan to return. And please do not worry, you will not be staying in the motel for too long.”
Libby closed her eyes in hopes doing so would stop the whirling images dancing inside her brain. It didn’t. When she opened them again, she noticed a purse lying on the bed. She didn’t remember seeing it there before.
“Mine?” she asked Matthias.
“You will need the proper accessories for your new life.”
She picked it up as if it contained a disgusting object and opened it. She pulled out the wallet and studied the contents. All the identification she found stated that she was Elizabeth Douglas.
“How can this be done?” She held up the wallet.
“For us, very easily. I do ask that you go easy on the credit cards. Of course, as long as you’re here you will receive the bills.” Matthias smiled.
“As long as I’m here,” Libby mused. “Oh, I get it! You’re just like Clarence.”
“Clarence?” He looked puzzled.
“Yes, Clarence. He was the angel in It’s a Wonderful Life. You know, the movie starring Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed. Jimmy hates his life and Clarence shows him what the town would be like if he didn’t exist. And because Clarence succeeds, he gets his wings. You know that every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings.”
Matthias looked heavenward. “Why does everyone use the visual media as an example of how we exist? I will not receive wings for any success. After I finish this assignment I will be entering the Council of Elders, as I deserve.”
Libby wrinkled her nose. “Sounds ominous to me.”
He looked offended. “On the contrary, it is a very honorable recognition for my work. But first, you need to understand what is expected of you.”
�
��Expected of me?” Libby stared at him. Surely, this was a dream. She probably had fallen off the swing at the park and hit her head. When she came to, Tyler would be holding her and her world would be back to normal.
“This is not a dream, this is the life you wished for,” Matthias stated.
Could dream characters read your mind? she wondered.
He offered her a droll look as if he was tired of her trying his patience. “No, I am not a dream and yes, I can read your mind.”
“Then what do I have to do to return to my life?” she demanded.
Matthias smiled. “That is for you to find out.”
“That’s a big help! You told me you were here to guide me.”
“Guide you, yes. I’m not here to lead you by the hand.”
“And what happens to Tyler during all this?” Saying his name caused an unexpected ache. “Why should he have to go through this, too?”
“I hate to correct you, but he will not be going through anything. He is merely existing in a world without you.”
Tyler? Without her? The ache intensified.
Matthias glanced at the small alarm clock set on the bedside table. “It is getting late and you have to report to your new job tomorrow. I suggest you get a good night’s rest. I will see you in the morning.”
He disappeared as swiftly as he had appeared.
“Wait!” But Libby’s protest went unheeded. Her shoulders slumped. While she would have argued with him that she wasn’t the least bit tired, she discovered she was feeling weary.
She pushed herself off the bed and walked over to the suitcases. She unzipped the largest one and pushed the cover back.
“These are not my clothes,” she murmured, staring at the brightly colored articles.
Yes, they are. Do not worry. You will not find anything in a shade unsuitable for you. And they will be a perfect fit.
She looked around but couldn’t see any signs of Matthias.
“But, they’re so…bright.”
She checked the other two suitcases, digging through the contents until she found a robe and nightgown. She hung up the clothing, amused that wrinkles fell out the moment the garments were placed on a hanger. She also discovered a variety of reading material, including several books she’d planned to read but never managed to find time to.
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