by C Farren
Wren was about to ask him more about Liz when there was a commotion behind them. At first, she thought it must be another show until she recognized the voice.
“Are you stalking me?” Everett shouted.
Everett Rickard was sat at a table near the kitchen with a blonde woman Wren didn’t recognize. Her face was heavily made up and she wore a silver dress that showed so much cleavage she was surprised her boobs didn’t leak out. Lenny was standing by them, glaring angrily at his brother-in-law.
“I work here!” Lenny shouted. He was wearing a scarlet shirt, the uniform for the restaurant. He calmed down and said, “I got a job this morning.”
“Oh.” Everett looked around him in embarrassment.
“Who’s this?” the blonde woman asked.
Everyone was watching them. They started talking in quieter tones now so Wren didn’t hear what was being said. She wished she could lip read. She was sure that whatever they were saying would be explosive.
I’m not being nosy. I’m just looking out for clues to Delia’s murder.
“He’s married to my sister,” Lenny shouted.
The blonde woman’s eyes fixed on Everett with shock. She said something and stood, quickly putting her coat back on. She stormed off, leaving Everett to the mercy of Lenny and his temper. Wren didn’t know what to do, but she couldn’t let her friend make a mistake and end up back in jail. Even though it was none of her business she had to intervene.
“How long have you been cheating on Chelsea?” Lenny shouted.
“I’d never cheat on Chelsea,” said Everett. “Besides, it’s none of your business!”
“My sister is my business.”
“Like you could care less about your sister. Like you could care less about any of your sisters!”
Wren screamed no and ran across the restaurant. She managed to put herself in between the two angry men before something violent happened. She held her hand against Lenny’s chest. He was breathing heavily and his hands were balled into fists. He was ready to do his brother-in-law some serious harm.
Since when did Lenny raise his fists like that? It’s not like him.
“No,” Wren commanded. Her friend’s fury scared her a little, but she had to do this. “Lenny, calm down. If you do this you’ll lose your parole.”
“He’s cheating on Chelsea!” Lenny roared.
Some of the diners gasped in shock. One of them even clapped. They obviously thought this was part of the entertainment.
“That’s garbage,” said Everett. His face was bright red with anger and embarrassment. “That was Mona Bright, the CEO of Bright Organic Pet Foods. My boss told me to take her out to dinner to try and get her to stock some of their goods in our practices.”
Everett’s veterinary surgery was part of a huge chain throughout the United States. This could’ve been a huge deal. Even Wren bought Mona’s pet food for her cats. It was organic and fresh and they loved it. Expensive, but worth it.
“That’s not what she said,” said Lenny. He looked from Everett to Wren, starting to panic, though his anger still remained. “He’s lying.”
Everett shook his head. “He’s the one that’s lying.”
It was obvious which one was distorting the truth. Everett had an almost sly grin on his face, knowing he would be the one who would be believed. Why not? He was a well-respected town vet. Lenny was a criminal who’d just gotten out of prison.
But what if Everett wasn’t lying?
Lenny and Everett had always hated each other. Lenny thought Everett wasn’t good enough for his sister. Everett thought Lenny was a cancer on the family. If Wren remembered correctly, they’d come to blows often before, though Lenny had always been the bigger man and refrained from starting anything physical. Not now. Lenny was on the verge of beating his brother-in-law with his fists.
“It doesn’t matter who’s telling the truth,” Wren told Lenny. It was like she was the mediator between two petty children. “I don’t want you to go back to jail. Leave it be, Lenny. Please.”
Her friend looked betrayed. It broke her heart, yet she had to be firm. This was his life at stake here, his future.
Everett said, “Can I please go now?”
“Go,” Wren ordered.
He gave her a filthy look before walking away. Wren wanted to hit him. How could she not see what a slimy individual he was?
“She told me they met on some dating app,” Lenny explained. His hands were still in fists, though he did seem a lot calmer now. “I’m not lying.”
“I don’t care,” said Wren. She had trouble controlling her own anger. “I don’t want to see you inside again.”
He sighed and rubbed at his hair. “I’m sorry. I just sort of lost it. I know Chelsea hates me, but I couldn’t see her being disrespected like that.”
Wren was about to add more when a tall Japanese woman with stiff hair marched up to them. Lenny suddenly looked uncomfortable.
“What are doing, arguing with the customers?” the woman demanded.
Lenny said, “He was...”
“I don’t care. You’re fired. I never should’ve hired an ex-con.”
She marched away again before Lenny could plead his case. The entire restaurant was still staring at them. Wren was embarrassed now.
“This day just gets worse and worse,” said Lenny, walking away.
“Lenny!” she shouted after him.
He ignored her and left. Wren considered going after him but decided against it. He needed to calm down. She’d call in on him in the morning with a cup of coffee and make sure he was doing okay.
She sat down with Benedict again.
“Is the show over?” Benedict asked playfully.
“That’s my friend Lenny,” Wren explained. “He’s just got out of prison.”
“You sure do know a wonderful array of people.”
“Drag queens and parolees and angels oh my!”
He laughed uncomfortably. “You know an angel?”
They stared at each other for a few moments, almost daring the other one to speak.
“You really know an angel,” Benedict stated.
“You do too,” said Wren.
He paused before answering. “I used to know one. He was called Brock. He was sent to help my father when I was about ten years old.”
Wren couldn’t believe it. What were the chances that this man, who now seemed intertwined completely with her own life, had an angel too? When angels were involved there wasn’t such a thing as coincidences.
And wasn’t Brock the name of the angel who Fiona had a crush on?
“What happened?” Wren asked.
“It didn’t go very well. Brock had an affair with my mother, and my dad attacked the angel. There was this big fight. Anyway, Brock was fired by his boss, some officious woman called Juniper, and he left. We never saw him again.”
Fiona had made Brock out to be some sort of sweetheart. This version of Brock sounded like a lothario and a homewrecker. Did Fiona know any of this?
“That’s terrible,” said Wren. She had a sip of her green tea, but it was cold now. “Sounds like Brock was more of a demon than an angel.”
“I liked him too,” Brock admitted. “He always gave time to me and he never talked to me like I was a child. Sometimes I kind of miss him.”
Something stirred in the pit of her stomach. If there was such a thing as angels, then surely there were demons too?
Demons are real. I’m never sleeping again.
“There was a happy ending,” Benedict continued. “My parents’ marriage survived. They’re still together. I don’t think they like to mention the angel incident. In fact, I’m not even sure they remember it, to be honest. Whenever I bring it up they look at me like they have no idea what I’m talking about.” Benedict looked brooding for a moment. “Maybe Juniper wiped their minds or something. I never thought about it.”
“Why didn’t they wipe your mind?” said Wren.
He shrugged. “May
be they thought they had.”
The angels had more powers than she’d realized. Would they wipe her mind of Fiona if something went wrong? Would they wipe her mind of Fiona if everything went right? It didn’t bear thinking about.
“My angel is called Fiona,” said Wren. She felt naughty, revealing something like this so casually. “She’s actually my great-grandmother.”
“Is this the Fiona who hangs around with you?” Benedict asked. “The one who came with you to my bar that time?”
“The very same.”
“She’s so tiny.”
Wren laughed. “Yes, she is, but she’s as bossy as an army sergeant.”
She began to talk all about her angel, starting from the very beginning. Benedict took it all in, but she sensed something uncertain about him. Was it because he blamed his angel for trying to ruin his parents’ marriage, or was there something more? Maybe just talk about angels reminded him of unhappy times in his past.
“Don’t count on them for too much of anything,” Benedict warned her. “You’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“To be honest, she hasn’t really done much,” Wren admitted. She thought about it some more and came to a realization. “In fact, she hasn’t done anything apart from move into my home and boss me about.”
How could I say something like that about Fiona? She’s my friend.
“I think they’re supposed to be your friend and nudge and encourage you to do the things you want to do but haven’t got the confidence for,” said Benedict. “They’re sort of life coaches but with wings.”
“I guess you’re right. Maybe she has done more for me than I’d thought.”
Life without Fiona in it seemed unfathomable. She seemed to have been there forever. Wren’s life was hardly a bed of roses at the moment. Fiona still had her work cut out for her. One day she would leave, of course, but that was far in the future. Until then they’d have to stick together.
It was Fiona who convinced me to go out with Benedict when I wanted to avoid him.
It was Fiona who convinced me to take on the coffee shop. Well, she threatened to burn the house down, but it was the same thing.
Wren suddenly realized that Fiona had more or less done her job. Wren had found a man, more or less, and she’d gotten a new business which excited her and gave her a future. Did this mean the angel would be leaving soon? Would her mind be wiped of Fiona’s very existence? No. That didn’t make sense. A lot of people in Snowflake Bay had interacted with Fiona. Juniper would have to mind wipe the whole town. Surely no angel had powers that vast?
What if Juniper sends God down himself to mind wipe us?
Wren shook her head. She wasn’t cut out for all this spiritual talk. She wasn’t even sure God existed, despite the angels. Fiona had neither confirmed or denied the existence the God. She always acted cryptic or changed the subject whenever Wren brought it up.
“Do you want to go back to my house for a coffee?” Wren asked.
Benedict grinned. “I didn’t think you’d go for that on a first date.”
“I mean actual coffee.”
“I know what you meant. I can’t, though. Paula’s babysitter leaves at ten.”
She tried to hide her vast disappointment. She’d only half meant to invite him for actual coffee. The other half wanted more.
“Next time then,” said Wren, confident.
Benedict said, “I knew there was going to be a next time.”
THE LIMOUSINE PULLED up outside Wren’s house. Benedict got out first and opened her door for her. She giggled, feeling like a lady. Was he going to spread his cloak on the ground so she didn’t get her shoes wet like some Elizabethan gentleman?
“I like seeing you laugh,” Benedict admitted.
“I haven’t had this much fun in ages,” said Wren. “Despite the interlude with Lenny.”
She looked across the road. Paula was waving at them from his front porch. Their ginger cat, Rocky, was sat on her lap. She was wearing a pretty pink winter coat.
“Your daughter is expecting you,” said Wren. Her breath was misty. “She loves you very much.”
“It’s good to see her a little animated,” said Benedict. He waved towards Paula. “She’s been a bit depressed since the incident in the toy store.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“She’s stopped talking as much. I feel as though there’s something she’s not telling me. I just wish she’d open up about her ordeal. It might help.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Give her time. She knows she can count on you.”
She didn’t want the night to end, but she was extremely tired. Today had been a long day. Tomorrow would be even longer.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you for a coffee?” she asked, hoping for a yes. “I can ask my angel to look after Paula for a while.”
“I don’t like leaving her on her own for too long,” said Benedict. “But save me a cup. I’ll be by to collect it some day.”
He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. It wasn’t chaste, or even passionate, but she liked it. It was a promise of things to come.
The way his stubble tickled my skin...
“Goodnight,” he whispered.
She blew him a kiss. “Goodnight.”
Wren watched him walk over and join his daughter. He picked her up in his big strong arms and swung her around as she giggled. He seemed to be a wonderful father. He gave her a sly wink before they headed inside.
“I should really stop standing in the middle of the street,” she muttered.
Fiona was waiting for her in the living room. She was sat in the middle of the couch, a sleeping cat on either side. She was quietly reading a book. Keegan was sitting in one of her comfy armchairs, reading something on his cellphone. He must have arrived to keep the angel company and to stop himself from becoming maudlin about Lenny.
“How was it?” the angel asked, not looking up from her book. It appeared to be the autobiography of Winston Churchill. “You look flustered.”
“It’s cold outside,” said Wren defensively. She grinned. “But he did kiss me.”
Wren fell into her armchair, a grin as wide as the Grand Canyon stretched across her face. She hadn’t been as elated as this in a long time, not since the day she married Alex. It was like her whole life was starting anew; a new boyfriend, a new best friend, a new business. She usually abhorred change, but this time it was different. This time it was change for the better.
“It was the best date ever,” Wren declared, hugging herself, on top of the world. “And I can’t wait for the next one.”
“So, you’re not going to give us anything more than that?” Keegan asked. “Go on. You know I’m desperate for gossip. Let me live vicariously through you.”
Wren shook her head. “I don’t want to jinx it.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” said Fiona. “Your love life is something of a disaster zone. Winston Churchill would’ve had difficulty sorting that out.”
Keegan reacted to something on his cellphone. He had the look of someone who’d been slapped across the face with a kipper.
“What is it?” Wren asked.
He looked up. “Nothing. Just... nothing.” He looked down at his cell again. “Anyway, I better go. I have an early start tomorrow.”
He left without another word, causing Wren to worry. Was he in contact with Lenny? Keegan and Lenny had been a power couple very much in love. Were the feelings still there? She’d suspected as much when she’d eavesdropped on them the other day, but she still couldn’t be sure.
“Someone started texting him half an hour ago,” said Fiona, eyes still on the book. Her glasses were perched precariously on the end of her nose. “They’ve been talking ever since.”
“Do you know who it was?” Wren asked.
“I don’t know, but there was a look on his face... It was someone Keegan loved very much.”
What did Keegan and Lenny seeing each other again mean? The break-up h
ad torn her friend to pieces. He hadn’t been serious with anyone since. Wren wasn’t sure he even tried that hard to be close with anyone else. Would the two of them getting back together end up being a colossal mistake, or was it just destiny? She’d told him to go for it, but she still wasn’t sure.
I know it’s none of my business but...
“I think I need to go to bed,” said Wren, standing up. “It’s been a long day.”
“I’m coming to help you at the Metropolitan tomorrow,” stated Fiona. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Are you bored sitting at home on your own all day?”
Fiona didn’t answer. She just shrugged. Wren took that to mean yes.
Wren remembered something. “Before I head off to bed, I need to ask you something and you need to tell me the truth.”
“I’ll answer you if I can,” said Fiona. It was an evasive answer, but Wren took it.
“When you think you’ve done your job and you leave, will I forget you?”
Fiona took off her glasses. She sighed and said, “Yes.”
Wren nodded and quietly went upstairs.
Chapter 17
Any happiness she’d experienced over her dream date with Benedict was now well and truly over. All she could think about was losing Fiona. Why didn’t she tell her? She could’ve had time to prepare. It wasn’t fair to lump her with this on top of trying to get the Metropolitan up and running and the murder. It was too much.
She curled up in bed, pulling the quilt up over her shoulders. She was still cold, even when Gracie jumped up onto the bed and sat staring at her.
“What am I going to do with you?” Wren asked. “Who’s the father?”
Gracie meowed.
“Is it Casper?” she asked. “Or is it someone else?”
Gracie started cleaning her paws. She didn’t care.
“I wish I could be as carefree as you,” Wren admitted.
Her cellphone started to ring. She didn’t recognize the number. Why would an unknown be calling this late at night? If it was a cold caller, she was going to give them a piece of her mind.