Christmas Angel

by Amanda McIntyre

  “Shado, will you tell me what happened to your brother?” She heard his reluctant sigh. “If you’d rather not, I understand.” It wasn’t true. She wanted desperately to reconnect with what she’d felt earlier in the evening. There was a moment or two during their lovemaking when she swore he wanted to tell her something, but he’d withdrawn like always, afraid to let go and allow himself to be loved and to love.

  She’d started to tell him how she felt, but the timing seemed off and she hadn’t. Perhaps he needed more time to sort it out in his mind. She only hoped she would still be around when the time came.

  A rough gasp choked from his throat, and she shifted to her side, rising up on her elbow to look down at him. His face, illuminated by the streetlight shining through the window, was contorted, and tears slid down his temples as he fought to keep his anguish at bay. He swiped his hand over his face and took a gulp of air before he tried to speak. “It was Christmas Eve, seven years ago, when Penny went into an early labor. Her water broke, and the doctor told her she’d have to stay in the hospital until the baby was born.” He paused, fighting to continue. “I’d gotten the flu. Dammit, I’m never sick…never, but that fucking night I was and there was nothing I could do about it.” He drew his balled fists to his forehead.

  Everything inside her wanted to reach out to him, give him some sense of comfort, but she held back, realizing he needed to get it all out—whatever cruel pain he carried inside him, he needed to get it out in the open.

  “There was this sting. It was supposed to be simple. Quick. Danny insisted he take my place since he was sitting around the hospital anyway. Gleason wouldn’t have it, but Danny didn’t listen.” He shook his head. “You know, he did that all of his life. Taking care of me. We did what twins do, I guess, watched each other’s back.”

  She reached out to touch him, drawing her hand back, letting him finish. Tears flowed freely from his eyes as he shared the pain of losing his brother.

  “Something went wrong. A hostage was taken. The goddamn idiot wouldn’t wait for backup.”

  She wanted to remind him he’d done the same thing earlier, but by the looks of things he’d already made the connection. It was strange fate would place him in a similar circumstance, so near the date his brother had died, and that he would follow his instinct, just as his brother had, in an effort to save another. Thankfully, the outcome was different and left both him and the hostage alive, which was something Shado would eventually have to accept. He slammed his fist on the bed and gulped another breath, trying to speak.

  She didn’t know what to say, how to console him. “You’ve been carrying around this guilt for years, Shado. Danny was doing his job—a job he loved and took pride in doing. He knew the risks, same as you did tonight.”

  He shot her a look then. “It should have been me,” he snarled and then his face crumpled. A deep sob erupted from his throat as though he’d been run through by a sword.

  She touched his arm, and he grabbed her, burying his face against her shoulder. Great sobs followed, claiming his body in wracking grief. Her heart broke at the sound of his pain pouring from inside him. She gathered him close, holding him tightly for how long she didn’t know, allowing him to purge himself of the anguish he’d kept bottled up. The front of her T-shirt was soaked through by the time she heard his steady breathing. He held her firmly, arms clamped around her waist, his face buried like a child against her breast. She brushed her hand over the top of his head, and he stirred but didn’t let go.

  To lose a brother—a twin brother—must be a nightmare to live with. To think it should have been you, twice the grief. Perhaps this was her purpose in coming, so the sequence of events following their meeting would allow him closure and maybe some peace. Fatigue enveloped her body, and she closed her eyes, no longer afraid of where she might wake up.

  ***

  Angel awoke alone. On the pillow next to her was a note.

  Needed to file a report on last night. See you later. Stay in bed and rest.

  She pulled the damp T-shirt from her body and elected to take a long, hot soak in the tub. Perhaps she could use the time to gather her meager belongings, so on Monday the move to the shelter would be quick and painless.

  It took her all of fifteen minutes.

  Angel wandered through the apartment and stood in his bedroom, her mind reeling with how he’d fallen apart the night before. She hadn’t heard him leave. Had the episode changed him? It was hard to tell by the note. Her eyes spotted the necklace where he’d left it on top of the dresser. Without hesitation, she grabbed it and his leather jacket and headed out the door. It was a brisk walk, but the sun was warm on her face as she tried to remember how far they’d driven to the block where he’d stopped at the antique store.

  It was a normal business day, and the streets were bustling with people and cars. She marveled at the changes that had taken place over time and pondered whether she would adapt as easily as Miss Lillian and Sheriff Jake to this new reality, or if one day she would wake up and find herself back in Deadwater. There was a freedom in being part of such an adventure, and yet, the part of it that tugged at her heart was living in this reality without Shado.

  She had to find Burt. She had to ask him why fate would be so cruel as to allow her to fall in love with one man, when she was supposed to be seeking the man in the music, the Billy of her dreams. She stopped as she came to a busy corner and looked down the street, not too surprised to see the same tattoo parlor and Chinese restaurant. There, tucked between them, with its striped awning out for business, was the antique store, Timeless Passion, just where Shado said it was. She crossed the street and a little bell tinkled above her as she walked in the front door. Her eye was drawn almost immediately to a framed portrait of a woman reclined on a velvet lounging chair. She recognized Miss Lillian’s portrait, which had hung in the Sweet Magnolia. Angel looked around and saw no one in the store—patron or clerk. “Hello?” she called. “Hello?”

  The back curtain moved, and from behind it walked a short man with a silvery white mane. “Hello, Angel Marie.”

  She was neither afraid nor surprised. Perhaps because of what she’d been through, perhaps because she knew what had happened with Miss Lillian and Sheriff Jake. What she held inside of her, those memories of the people and the struggle of another time would forever be a part of who she was. Yet, she’d been brought forward to this time, her life crossing paths with Shado, a man whom she’d come to love with every breath of her being and would soon have to leave.

  She needed to understand the cruel hand the universe had dealt her.

  “It’s good to see you, Angel. You’re looking well.” He ushered her to a small table and chairs in front of an old potbelly stove. On the table was a game board of checkers set up to play.

  “Have a seat. Don’t suppose I could interest I you in a friendly game?” He eyed her with a smile.

  She drew the necklace from her pocket and held it out to him.

  “Ah, so you’re the one he wanted the dress for. I thought the garnet might go well with it.”

  “As if you didn’t know,” Angel replied. “I saw Miss Lillian the other day. She sends her regards.”

  He weighed the gem in his hand and smiled. “Is she happy?”

  Angel considered the question, remembering how she looked when she spoke of her life with Sheriff Jake, how proud they were of their family, the life they’d created together. “Yes, I’d say she is. I don’t think she has any regrets. She and the sheriff seem to have adjusted and had a happy life.”

  He nodded as he placed the necklace back in an ornately carved box.

  “Wonderful.”

  Angel crossed her arms, leaned forward on the table, and regarded him. “Why am I here?” Everyone it seemed had received some semblance of closure, except her. She needed to understand what was to happen to her now.

  He shrugged and studied her face. “Don’t have an answer. Each person’s journey is unique, Angel. I don’t
make the plans. I see only a heart desperately seeking something. Very often, the person, the vessel carrying the desire, doesn’t even realize what they need. Once they decide to search for it, I simply encourage the quest.”

  “Are there others like Miss Lillian, the sheriff, and me?”

  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Far too many to name.”

  “I don’t understand. Why can’t these dreams be found within each person’s time period?”

  He shrugged. “Well, sometimes they are and with others—like you and Lilly and Jake—what you’re seeking can’t be found as easily. It takes someone very brave and with a certain amount of courage and belief to follow wherever their dreams lead them.”

  “But what happens if what you thought you wanted turns out to be something

  you realize you don’t need?”

  He stroked his snowy white goatee. “Hmm, it would be quite odd if your desire—which is the truest part of yourself and never incorrect—should lead you to a place where you didn’t belong.”

  She searched his face. “I do remember what it was I wanted before I left

  Deadwater.”

  “That’s a good place to start. Please refresh my memory. What did you need?”

  Angel eyed the old man, growing more frustrated. Instead of getting answers, she was more confused. She wasn’t getting anywhere. “I was searching for the man named Billy who wrote the lyrics to the songs Miss Lillian used to sing.”

  “Ah, yes…right, right. Your infatuation with his music led you to take piano lessons, true?” He nodded. “I remember now. And have you found him?”

  “Billy?” She looked at him in surprise. “I’ve heard his music everywhere, but

  I’ve not once met the man.”

  He scratched his chin. “Well, the world is a mighty big place, Angel. Have you been searching?”

  “I’ve been too busy trying to stay alive.” Her voice rose in exasperation. “First, I witnessed a murder, and then they shot at me. Then there was the intruder who nearly broke into Shado’s apartment, and then I was kidnapped—not to mention thwacked twice on the head.” She pushed back her hair so he could see the bandage. “I haven’t had a lot of time to hunt for him.”

  “I see, and so this is how you wound up under Detective Jackson’s protective care?” He picked up a pipe and tapped it against the heel of his shoe. “Perhaps then you need to look harder?”

  Angel sighed and dropped her chin into her hand. Her eyes met his across the table. “That’s my problem. I don’t want to look anymore. I found what I want, what I think I need.”

  “I presume you’re referring to Detective Jackson?”

  “Yes.” She blew out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, exactly.”

  Burt’s whiskery brows pinched together when he frowned. “And does he reciprocate these feelings?”

  She pressed her lips together. The waters turned muddy when it came to

  Shado. “I don’t know. He doesn’t feel he deserves to be happy.”

  The old man nodded. “I ventured as much when we talked the other day.” Burt regarded her. “I sure wish I could tell you how this will turn out. But you and Detective Jackson are the masters of your own fate. Every choice you make affects the next moment—for you or someone else.”

  Angel studied the strange old man, her friend in this predicament, afraid to ask him the one question she feared most. “If I don’t find what I came for, then does the possibility exist I could end up back in Deadwater?”

  Burt stood and took her by the hand. He led her down the narrow aisle to the front door. “Time’s a-wastin’. I’m going to have to bid you adieu.” He opened the door and peered up, squinting against the brilliant blue sky. “Have faith in your dreams, Angel. Think carefully about what you wanted most.”

  Angel gripped his hand, afraid to let go. “But, please, I’ve told you already,” she pleaded, hoping to make him understand. “I was looking for the man who could love me with the same passion as the song spoke of—with a love like Miss Lillian and Sheriff Jake shared.”

  “Right.” He patted her hand. “Thank you for bringing the necklace back and for letting me know things turned out well for Lillian and the sheriff. I appreciate it.”

  Concern roiled in the pit of her stomach. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He appeared startled. “I didn’t? Let me say things quite often have a funny way of working out. Don’t give up.”

  Angel stepped out on the stoop and searched the street. People bustled around her as though they didn’t see her or Burt. She was perhaps more confused than when she went in. Her only hope now was for a Christmas miracle. She turned to him. “Will I see you again?”

  “Hard to say, but in case you don’t, have a Merry Christmas, Angel. Such a lovely name, especially this time of year.”

  She nodded in bewilderment and had walked only a few steps when she heard him call out. “Oh, and please give William my wishes for a Merry Christmas. The boy could use an angel in his life.”

  Angel turned on her heel to face him, but he was gone, along with the crowded storefront and the striped awning. Only the dark, empty building remained. “William?” She pondered the name. “Who the heck is—” Angel smiled and her heart lifted with her hurried steps. Perhaps she’d have her Christmas miracle after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Traffic at shift change was hell. Shado turned on the radio and randomly punched through the buttons searching for anything to take his mind off the fact in a couple of days, Angel would walk out of his life.

  Don’t go changin’ to try to please me—

  The irony of finding that song did little to appease the cold fear in his gut. What if he’d read her wrong? She was free to go and do as she pleased. What if her plans didn’t include him? He tapped the wheel nervously, waiting for traffic to inch forward through the last-minute holiday shopping crowd. He looked ahead and saw the Imperial and thought of the night they’d met, how beautiful she’d looked in her old-fashioned flowered dress and those silly boots—and how lost. He’d mulled the idea she was from another time, over and over, until it nearly drove him nuts, finally coming to the conclusion that people from all walks of life meet other people every day and not everyone came with a ready-made tag of their past. It took time and commitment to get to know someone, and he wanted a chance with Angel. He glanced over and saw a man at the old tree lot shack where’d they’d set up their surveillance. He was stamping his feet against the cold and boredom, no doubt. Shado spied a handful of trees, the ones no one else wanted, stacked against the makeshift fence.

  A few moments and several pine needles later, he untied the evergreen from the roof of his car and struggled with it up the short flight of steps to his apartment building. “What am I doing?” he muttered as he hooked his arms around the thick lower branches.

  He yanked once, then again, and managed to get the widest part of the six-foot Fraser fir into the black and white tiled foyer. Gratefully, the hall was empty because the tree filled the small space. The door to his landlord’s apartment opened.

  “Jackson, what the hell do you think you’re doin’? You know the policy. Only artificial trees allowed.”

  Shado pulled the monstrosity toward the stairs, struggling as he spoke to strike

  a deal with his landlord. “Mr. Ross,” he spoke breathlessly. “I’ll give you two hundred dollars to pretend you didn’t see this and what’s more, I promise not to put a single light on this…not a thing to potentially start a fire.”

  “Well, hell, Jackson. Is this a bribe? And by the way, aren’t you a police officer or something?”

  He held up a wad of bills to the man. “This will buy a lot of fine Hawaiian shirts, Mr. Ross,” Shado said in an appeal to the man’s exquisite taste in attire.

  Ross frowned, but the gears were turning. “Hey, it’s Christmas Eve.” He walked over and snapped the bills from his hand, careful to count them. “I don’t wanna
be no Grinch.” He offered a cheesy grin and nodded toward the tree. “Say, is that for your girl?”

  My girl? News got around fast in this building. Still, the it did admittedly sound pretty damn good when said aloud.

  “I guess we’ll find out.” He picked up the trunk, hoisting it over his shoulder and glanced at Mr. Ross. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a minute?”

  He looked down at the bright blue shirt festooned with palm trees and beach balls. “New shirt, and there’s a Knicks game on.”

  “Right,” Shado muttered, moving backward carefully up the stairs one step at a time.

  Ross stood at the bottom railing, looking up at him. “Next time, flowers would be easier.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Shado stated, moving to the next step. The point of the tree bobbed softly, shedding a few more needles. He hoped he’d have a damn tree by the time he reached the third floor. He also hoped his attempt, which he was quickly beginning to think of as borderline ridiculous, would show her he was trying to make an impression. He wanted to say thanks. He hadn’t intended to fall apart on her. Though he didn’t say it, the truth was he realized how close he’d come to losing her. Yet instead of him comforting her after the ordeal, she’d been his comforter, allowing him to purge himself of the crap he’d carried.

  The burden of his brother’s death had been slowly eating him alive all these years. God he missed Danny, and he always would, but facing his grief and letting go of his guilt had saved him, making him realize life was too short and he didn’t want to lose anyone else he cared about. That alone was a revelation. It’d been a long time since he felt he could love someone and deserve their love in return.

  “Generally takes more than flowers or a tree, Jackson, unless she happens to be a squirrel.” The man laughed at his own joke. “I hope you’re packing a better surprise along with this,” Ross called as he rounded the first landing.

  The small ring box in Shado’s pocket nudged his ribs as he bent over to grasp the tree trunk. He glanced up—only two more flights, then he’d find out whether the surprise would be hers or his.