Martin could have requested additional, more detailed information about Doug, but he already knew all the minute, in-between details. He felt, in his heart and after all his discussions with Max, that Doug was ready for the Heavenly Grille assignment. He also knew that Max and Bertie would continue to guide him in his heavenly duties and requirements.
Martin’s only outstanding concern regarding Doug’s readiness for the assignment was his ability to control his temper. Naturally, Doug’s propensity toward a quick temper had not been an issue in Heaven, but it had caused him some problems during his life as a mortal. “Oh, well,” Martin sighed, “It’s in God’s hands now. Only time will tell, I suppose…and that’s certainly one thing there is no shortage of here in Heaven!”
“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works…”
Ephesians 2:10 (NKJV)
CHAPTER 3
-Tampa-
Amanda’s Journey Begins
It was only nine o’clock on Monday morning when Amanda Turner had dutifully cleaned out her desk, waved and mumbled her final good-byes to her now former co-workers, and carried the small cardboard box containing her personal belongings to Old Faithful – her 2002 Isuzu Trooper - which was still running strong at 135,000 miles. The used car had been a high school graduation present from her father, Stephen, just three short years ago. Her father had been her only living relative, as well as her best friend. They had spent every possible moment together and he had raised her single-handed since the day her mother, Regina, had been killed in a freak car accident when Amanda was only seven.
Stephen Turner had been diagnosed with advanced colon cancer one month before Amanda graduated high school. Prior to his diagnosis, he had suffered and worried in silence for two years with mild-to-moderate rectal bleeding. He performed a self-diagnosis and determined the culprit to be painful and persistent hemorrhoids, and since he had always distrusted doctors, he did not have his symptoms checked out until his condition was too advanced…and too late. The day he had to tell Amanda the truth about his condition was one of the hardest days of his life. Stephen had fought the disease with his normal quiet integrity and strength for the next thirteen months, always convinced that he would win the battle against the ferocious and unforgiving cancer. He put up a tremendous fight, but he did not win that battle.
The agony of watching her father’s valiant, yet futile, attempt to survive ripped through Amanda’s heart; she was an emotional wreck as she watched her father grow weaker and thinner, but she made every attempt to make him laugh and to make as many memories as she could for them. She took pictures and made scrapbooks of all their activities, listened to his Patsy Cline collection with him practically every night, baked his favorite desserts, drove him to all his appointments, and cried with him when his pain was too much for him to hide. She became the same dutiful caretaker to him that he had been for her for her first eighteen years. Even when Hospice stepped in to help during his final months, she never left his side. She was alone with him, holding his hand, and singing along with Patsy Cline when he died at home thirteen months after his initial diagnosis.
Her father had prepared her for his death the best he could, showing her how to manage the household expenses, and where important legal documents were stored. He had purchased a small insurance policy that was enough to pay for his burial and allowed Amanda to remain in the family home for another year after his death. Looking back in hindsight, Amanda knew she probably should have sold the home before she ran out of insurance money, but she had not been able to allow herself to leave the only home she had ever known - the home where she still felt her father’s strength and presence in every room.
Amanda kicked a loose rock and looked back at the office building. She sighed and tried to ignore the heaviness that settled upon her chest. She was determined not to cry, not again, not now. She opened the back door to Old Faithful and moved a mountain of other boxes and clothing aside to make room for the cardboard box she carried in her arms. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and whispered, “Okay, God, what now? What do I do now? Where do I go? I have no family, I’ve been evicted from my home, I’ve lost my job, and… I have a whopping seven hundred dollars between me and total desperation. So, how about it, God? I’m here, your child, out of answers. I’m waiting, God. I’m waiting…where exactly do you suggest I go?”
Amanda Turner had never felt so alone in her life.
She closed the Trooper’s back door, lifted her head, and looked toward the captivating Tampa Bay skyline. She hated to leave her home town, but the economy was crushed and the job market more dire than it had been in decades, so she felt she had no other choice but to leave. She just didn’t know where to go. She raised her eyebrows, tilted her head, and quirked, “Hmmm? What was that, God? I’m still not hearing you!”
A pedestrian, walking by the parking lot, gave her a strange look and hurried past.
Amanda shouted after him, “Oh, yeah, you’d better run! Crazy woman here! No telling what she might do!” She watched the stranger until he was out of sight. “Well, Lord, I can’t stand here all day waiting for you to make up your mind, that’s for sure. My luck, they’ll arrest me for loitering…” Amanda got behind the wheel and started up the car, guiding the air conditioning vent until the cool air was blowing directly in her face. She backed out of the parking space and looked in her rear view mirror for oncoming traffic before easing her way onto the exit ramp that would take her north across the Howard-Frankland Bridge. “I bet I’ve crossed this bridge hundreds of times,” she sighed, “Usually with a destination in mind, but…I have absolutely no idea where I’m going now.” She turned on the radio, lit a cigarette – nasty habit that it was – blew out the cancer-inducing smoke, and smiled. “Faith...gotta have it; gotta love it! Okay, Lord, here we go…”
Amanda had been on the road for almost six hours and God still hadn’t responded to her incessant questioning about her destination. Her growling stomach reminded her that she had not eaten anything since a peanut butter and jelly sandwich the night before. She pulled off the interstate at the next exit and looked around for a fast-food joint. She obviously had chosen the wrong exit because there was only one gas station and a few vintage Floridian homes. She continued down the road for about a mile and was about to make a U-turn when she noticed a golden hue up ahead, around the bend. The golden hue was coming from a blue and white restaurant on the left. A small parking lot graced the front of the restaurant. Amanda pulled into the parking lot and stared in awe at the source of the golden hue - a huge, golden halo that appeared to be floating above the restaurant’s roof.
She got out of her car, stretched her arms high above her head, and twisted from side to side. She tossed her cigarette stub on the ground and grinded it with her foot to make sure it was out. She grinned at the handmade sign that hung over the front door and identified the establishment as the Heavenly Grille Café. “Heavenly Grille Café, huh? So this is where you want me stop, God?” She shook her head, reached inside the car for her purse, slammed the door, and turned toward the café. “Well, okay then. A girl’s gotta eat, right?” Looking upward, she shook her head and wondered aloud, “How the heck does that halo stay afloat?”
She never saw the man, directly in her path, bent over to tie his shoe laces. “Oh, my God!” she shrieked as she tripped unceremoniously over him.
The man grunted, turned quickly, and caught her in his arms before she hit the pavement.
Amanda landed squarely atop the man and stared into the most absolute greenest eyes she had ever seen. His eyes mesmerized her into temporary paralysis; she could not, nor did she want to, move. It was several moments before she took a breath and quickly pushed herself up, inadvertently poking the poor man in the ribs with her elbows. “Oh! I am so sorry! Please forgive me. Are you hurt? Here, let me help you up. I’m so sorry.”
The man’s laugh was soft and gentle, and strangely comforting, as they both struggled to reclaim
their former vertical positions. The man stood and brushed sand off his well-worn jeans. “It’s okay, really. I’m fine, no problem. What about you?” He touched Amanda’s shoulder to help steady her.
His touch was absolutely electrifying, causing Amanda to shiver and jump back. She rubbed absently at the shoulder he had barely touched. “Me? No…yes…no, I’m good. Yeah, I’m... okay. You’re sure you’re okay?” She asked again, staring into his eyes. Oh, yes, they were indeed the greenest eyes she had ever seen. The greenest eyes on the most handsome face she had ever seen. The most handsome face on the most perfect body she had ever seen. She stared at him for a moment longer before finally accepting the hand he held out.
“Why don’t we try this again, shall we?” he smiled down at her. “Hello, my name is Doug.” He looked toward the café and grinned. “And… I think I work here. Any chance I can I buy you a cup of coffee? Or, maybe…a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
CHAPTER 4
Bertie Greets Amanda and Doug
The café was only half-full with customers, all of whom were enjoying Max’s home-made meals that consisted mostly of good, old comfort food. Word had spread quickly throughout the small community that the Heavenly Grille was the place to go for cooking that was even better than Mom’s. Max was working in the kitchen, looking out at the crowd, and whistling one of his usual out-of-tune melodies. He stopped every once in a while to say hello to one of the regular customers.
Bertie was standing at the counter, outside the kitchen, waiting patiently for Max to finish an order. She turned when the front door opened, sounding the angelic chimes that jingled whenever someone entered or exited the café. A wide grin spread across her face when she recognized the tall, handsome man who entered. She looked back toward Max and said in a low enough voice that only he could hear, “Well, I’ll be damned, will you look who old Martin decided to send down for this latest assignment!”
Max pursed his full, generous lips and drew his eyebrows together in what he hoped Bertie would recognize as a frown. “Bertie! Watch the language, girl; do you want to be put on probation... AGAIN?”
Bertie grinned at him and shrugged, “Oh, don’t go getting your big girl panties in a wad, Max. I’ve become a pro at being on probation, and besides, He knows it’s just a figure of speech. Besides…we all know that I’ll never be damned! Besides, you gotta admit, my colorful language keeps Heaven a little more interesting…” She laughed out loud, reached across the counter and pinched his puffed-up cheek. “You’re just so damn cute when you get all worked up over something, you know that, big fella?” She picked up the order that Max had placed on the counter and smiled again. “You probably knew all along who was coming down, but I had a feeling it might be Doug checking in here next. We can definitely use the extra manpower, for sure, especially on the night shift. So…close your mouth, Max, and take a deep breath. If you think you have your hands full with me, let’s just wait and see what little Dougie here brings to the table! From the stories I’ve heard about him, he had quite a temper in his day!”
Max’s attempt to look stern failed miserably. He knew Bertie never took things too seriously so it wouldn’t do any good to scorn her for her inappropriate language. He sighed and shook his head in defeat. “Compared to you,” Max grinned, “Doug should be a pussy cat…”
Bertie grabbed the plates of food and smiled at the young couple as she whizzed past them. She winked at Doug and said, “Be right with you two; just let me take this to those hungry truckers over there. Max’s cooking has been known to tame the savage beast.”
Amanda inhaled the enticing aroma of what she assumed must be the daily special posted on the chalkboard inside the front door: barbecue meatloaf and REAL mashed potatoes, smothered with brown, onion gravy. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was until she got a whiff of the food carried by the passing waitress. “Oh, my God, that smells soooo good,” she sighed, trying to inhale another quick wisp of the food’s aroma. She looked up at Doug and asked, “By the way, did I hear you right outside…you said you worked here? Because that waitress didn’t seem to know you at all.”
Doug smiled back at her and rubbed the back of his head, which was covered with thick, coal-black hair. “Close…what I said was that I think I work here.”
Amanda took her eyes off the food the truckers were devouring long enough to say, “You mean you don’t know…?” However, before she could finish her question, she noticed the waitress approaching them - this time with her arms outstretched widely in greeting. At least, Amanda hoped it was in greeting.
Bertie zeroed in on Doug and pulled him to her in a tight, strong hug. When she finally released him, she stood back, placed her hands on her hips, and looked up into his smiling face. “You’ve gotta be Doug, right? I heard you were a looker, but, damn, you really are one of the best looking men I’ve ever had the pleasure to lay these old eyes on!” She punched him on the shoulder and laughed out loud. “We’ve been expecting you for a couple of days now, boy. Where have you been?”
Doug had returned her bear hug and was now grinning back at her as if he’d known her all his life. He felt like he knew her already because he had certainly heard enough stories in Heaven about Bertie. The other angels had nicknamed her the naughty angel because of her uncontrolled compulsion for cursing. “Yes, I am Doug…and you must be Bertie? I’ve... heard a lot about you. It’s very nice to meet you, Bertie.” He looked toward the kitchen at the huge black man who was waving back at him. Doug returned the wave. “And that must be Max. I’m really sorry I’m so late, but I got a little side-tracked and my trip was delayed a couple of days. I hope you still have an opening for me.”
Bertie stood looking up at the handsome man, who to mortals might appear to be in his late twenties to early thirties, and said, “Are you kidding, handsome? I’ve saved an apron just for you; had a hard time finding one in your size, but I finally did.”
Doug stepped back, obviously checking out the frilly, white apron that Bertie sported, and threw his hands up in mock defense. “Come on now…is that really necessary? Somehow, I just cannot see myself wearing an apron…”
Bertie laughed and punched his shoulder. “Aww…too macho for a pretty apron, are you? Hey…just picking at you, kid. No, you won’t have to wear an apron if you don’t want to.” She looked over at the pretty young girl standing next to Doug and punched him on the shoulder yet again. “Hey, where are your manners? Who’s this pretty, little thing with you? We were only expecting one for the job, even though…there’s plenty of work around here for more.”
Doug smiled, looking back and forth between Amanda and Bertie. He scratched his head and said, “Well, this is actually a little embarrassing because…well, I didn’t get her name. We just…sort of…bumped into each other in the parking lot.”
Amanda offered her hand to Bertie. “Hi there, name’s Amanda. He’s being too much of gentleman. The truth is...we more than just bumped into each other. It was more like a collision. I actually tripped over Doug in the parking lot.”
Bertie ignored Amanda’s outstretched hand and, instead, pulled her into a motherly embrace, not quite as aggressive as the one she had offered Doug. “And you lived to tell about it? I won’t even ask how you managed to trip over something the size of this handsome devil. Well, never mind about all that. The two of you look mighty hungry to me. What do you say we find you a table and get you fed before we put Doug to work? By the way, handsome, you’re scheduled to work the night shift, so you still have a few hours. You’ll have plenty of time to get settled into your apartment before you have to tackle the evening crowd.”
Bertie grinned at Doug’s obvious discomfort. They both knew that angels did not require food or water to sustain their Heavenly bodies and that they never experienced hunger pains. It didn’t mean that they couldn’t eat…it just meant they didn’t have to. She winked at Doug as she led the way to a corner table.
Doug just shook his head and grinned, while Am
anda was quick to follow Bertie to the offered table. “Oh, thank you!” she laughed. “I want some of whatever that was you took to those truckers. And, I would absolutely die for a cup of coffee, please.”
“Oh, we won’t require that you die first... will we, Doug? Bertie grinned and slapped Doug on the butt just before he slid into his chair. “Take a load off, handsome. I’ll be right back with some food and coffee. After that, I’ll show you around the café. The night shift can be pretty hectic at times, but something tells me you won’t have any trouble with those customers.”
Amanda grinned as Bertie left them alone at the table. “I really like her. She has a way of making you feel right at home, doesn’t she?”
Doug rubbed his shoulder and smiled back. “Yes, she does; and, that’s probably a good thing, because I have a feeling I’ll be here for a while”; and, thinking to himself,” Oh, it’s going to be an interesting five years, I can tell...”
CHAPTER 5
Amanda Taken Under the Angels’ Wings
Dusk was settling in when Amanda looked up from her second helping of Max’s famous banana pudding. She closed her eyes and placed her hands comfortably over her belly. “I have NO idea where I managed to put all that food. It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted anything so good. My Grandma used to make banana pudding like this – it’s made with REAL pudding, not that instant, boxed stuff. There’s a big difference in the taste, you know, using the real stuff, I mean.”
Doug grinned at the beautiful young woman sitting across the table from him. A sudden sadness crept into his soul, one he couldn’t quite explain to himself or get a grasp on, but he quickly shook it off and took another sip of black coffee. “Yes, it was pretty obvious that you enjoyed your meal,” he said.
The Heavenly Grille Café (Heavenly Grille Cafe Book 1) Page 2