by Max Lucado
“Really? Wow . . . Thank you, ma’am!” Marcus pulled his baseball cap over his mop of dark hair. “I’ll be sure to come back here. To buy stuff,” he added in earnest. “Hope to see you next week!”
“See you then,” Chelsea said.
But the words felt false. She had taken a good hard look at her finances. The bottom line was this: Chelsea’s days at the café were numbered. The month was coming to a close, and she was still $8,500 short of her payment to the IRS.
She glanced at the clock. Two hours before closing. One hundred forty-eight lattes short of her daily quota. “Manny!” she hollered. “I’m making the call.”
Manny entered from the kitchen. “Closing for the day, boss?”
“I’m calling a realtor.” Chelsea closed her eyes, collecting her emotions. “I’m closing the café. For good.” She forced a smile. It was better than crying.
“Oh, Chelsea. No! You can’t!” Manny proved far less capable at controlling his emotions. He fell into a chair, his shoulders slumped.
Chelsea comforted him with a few pats on the back. Wait, is he crying? Shouldn’t I be the one crying?
“But what are you going to do now?” he asked.
A very good question. Chelsea could afford the first month’s bill with the dwindling cash in her savings. If she could make a quick sale on the café, she would be free of her mother’s debt. And after that? She couldn’t afford to think that far ahead.
“Right now . . . we are going to clean this place up. You can help yourself to any of the baked goods.”
Chelsea had been holding onto a real estate brochure touting the “Best of Alamo Heights” ever since Deb’s birthday party. It was hard to believe a few short weeks ago her idea of a next step was purchasing a McMansion. She put in a call to the realtor listed on the back.
What kind of name was Dennis Darling?
Emily descended the stairs, a bag of baby carrots in her hand, just as Chelsea was wrapping up the call with Dennis. He seemed to live up to his name, at least on the phone.
“Hey, Mom?” Emily asked.
Chelsea put her finger to her lips and pulled Emily onto her lap. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Chelsea said. “Oh, well, I look forward to meeting you too.” She set down the phone.
“Why are you smiling, Mom?” Emily asked.
“I’m not,” Chelsea said, reining in the grin that had crept onto her face.
“Oh. What’s wrong with Manny?”
Chelsea followed Emily’s gaze. A sniffling Manny disappeared into the kitchen with a warm, gooey chocolate lava cake. “Oh, I think Manny’s just really . . . hungry.”
“We need to get him some healthy snacks,” Emily said.
Ding! Ding! Two striking figures entered the café, a brawny, dark-skinned man accompanied by a towering woman with blond hair and blazing blue eyes.
“Wow,” Emily said. “Are you from the Olympics?”
The woman smiled. “We’re here to upgrade your Internet service.”
Chelsea couldn’t place her accent. Dutch? Norwegian, maybe? “I’m afraid I didn’t ask for any upgrade.” Chelsea stood, placing Emily back on the seat. “Manny?”
Manny moped into the café, still chomping on cake. But upon seeing the visitors, his mouth emptied. Like a chocolate volcano. Chelsea knew she wouldn’t be making lava cake again for a very long while.
“Do you know anything about an Internet upgrade?” she asked him.
Manny gave a tentative nod. “Is it the plan that’s free of charge for the first three months?”
“That’s the one.” The man’s biceps bulged as he opened a metal case. “Best connection we offer,” he said, placing a gleaming sphere on the table in front of Chelsea.
“It’s beautiful!” Manny marveled at the curious device. “But smaller than I imagined.” His fingers hovered inches above the object. “May I touch it?”
Had Manny lost his mind?
“Let’s not touch anything yet. It looks expensive,” Chelsea said. “What are the terms? Do I have to sign something?”
“No, it’s a just a trial period. If you wish to discontinue our service in three months, we’ll remove the router. No questions, no charges.”
Chelsea wasn’t convinced. “I’m not really big on the Internet. Besides, I probably won’t even be here in three months.”
“Where will we be, Mom?” Hancock asked. Chelsea hadn’t even seen him come downstairs.
“With Daddy?” Emily perked up.
“That’s enough, everybody!” After a long day of hard decisions, Chelsea’s patience had worn thin. She turned to the serviceman. “No additional charges?”
“Absolutely none,” he said.
Chelsea picked up the router. “How fast can you install it?”
“Before you can say amen,” he said with a smile.
Chelsea watched the duo walk out the door. Pushy salespeople rubbed her the wrong way. Especially ones that looked like supermodels. And now everything was bothering her. Even Manny.
He was sweeping the floor around her feet, whistling a jolly tune. What did he have to be so cheerful about? But then again, what did it matter now? There was a much harder conversation ahead.
“C’mon, kiddos,” Chelsea said. “Let’s go get supper.”
She was halfway up the stairs when the front door sounded the arrival of a customer. My final customer, she thought. She sent the kids to set the table and ceremoniously prepared “the last latte of the Higher Grounds Café” for a pensive patron named Miles, who had introduced himself and settled in with his laptop at a corner table.
“Your Internet’s broken,” he announced in a deep, booming voice as Chelsea delivered his latte. His eyes never left his screen.
“That’s impossible!” Manny cried, dropping his broom and running to the man’s side. At the sight of the screen, Manny squealed like a schoolgirl.
“What?” Chelsea asked. “What is it, Manny?”
“It’s perfect!”
Miles grimaced. “No, it’s broken, I assure you. I can only get to one website.”
“Well, let’s just hope it’s a good one,” Chelsea joked.
“Trust me,” Manny said with a grin. “You won’t be disappointed.”
Chapter 12
Church bells rang in the distance. It was midnight, but Manny couldn’t sleep. Not tonight. He sat upright on his simple cot and looked out the window. Stars pierced the veil of the nighttime sky. Diamonds on a cloth of black velvet. Infinite. Innumerable, they seemed. And yet Manny knew different.
Each star, numbered. Each star, named!
Like every grain of sand. Every hair on his head. Every trouble that filled his day. Created. Numbered. Known.
“Samuel?” An explosion of light filled the room. “Or should I say, Manny?”
Manny squinted, his eyes adjusting to the starburst. Gabriel! He tried to stand, only his feet wouldn’t let him. His wobbly knees melted to the floor. But the hair on the back of his neck was standing tall. Typical human reaction.
“Sorry. Still getting used to all this,” Manny said, motioning to his body.
Gabriel offered Manny a hand, pulling him to his feet. “It takes a while.”
Gabriel’s towering presence filled the room. His form was solid and sculpted, yet translucent, as if carved from light itself. Unblemished sunlight. His eyes blazed like a cosmic storm, creating an aurora dazzling as the northern lights. For the first time Manny could appreciate just how majestic, terrifying even, the sight of a spiritual being appears to the human eye.
“So you’ve been grounded before?” Manny asked. The look on
Gabriel’s face told him. “Of course, of course. You’re not allowed to say.”
“I can say this: some of my finest moments were in human form.”
Manny leaned forward. “Any missions I’d know about?”
“Let’s just say I can describe the many colors of Joseph’s coat, and the house of Martin Luther, and tell you what Abe
Lincoln ate for breakfast.”
“I had a hunch those were your missions!”
“But I am not here to talk about me. I am here to see how you are doing. Your plan is off to a great start.”
“It is? From where I’m sitting, it looks like we might be too late. Chelsea’s closing the café.”
“We were held up,” Gabriel explained. “Encountered far more resistance than we anticipated. Michael was even sent to help us.”
Manny’s jaw hit the floor. “Michael, as in Archangel Michael? I knew it! I knew it was him in the café!”
“That wasn’t Michael.”
“Really? Huh.” Manny went back to his musing. “Still . . . me and Michael. Working on the same mission. I wish I could’ve seen what you saw.”
“Who says you can’t?” Gabriel stepped forward and placed his hand on Manny’s shoulder.
At the moment of Gabriel’s touch, Manny’s eyes were opened to a new dimension. Recent events unfolded as if on-screen, this time from heaven’s view. Manny saw himself serving lattes and sweeping floors, and all the while a conflict was brewing around him. Faceless figures, shrouded in darkness, dashed through streets and jumped from rooftop to rooftop. They left shadows in their wake that spread over the houses like soot. But just as they laid claim to the territory, angels appeared. Strong, glowing, golden figures descended onto the streets. At their coming, the demons turned and stopped.
“Do you see why we’re here, Manny?” Gabriel asked.
Manny looked into his superior’s face and shook his head.
Gabriel touched the angel’s arm again. “Look closer.”
Manny saw the faces and heard the voices of some people he had come to know and love.
Bo, seated in his pickup in front of the café, his head bowed as he leaned over the steering wheel. “Father, send strength to this place.”
Sara, standing on the lawn looking toward Chelsea’s window, her cheeks moistened with tears. “Bless my sister, O Lord.”
Tony, striding through the neighborhood. In a quiet, but firm voice he prayed, “Come, Lord!”
And Chelsea. Manny’s heart jumped when, in his vision, he saw Chelsea praying. She was sitting on the porch late at night. Her face seemed empty of hope.
“God, I need help.”
“Their prayers were heard?” Manny said to Gabriel.
“Each and every one.”
As Manny watched the events unfold, he saw himself getting caught up in the action. He bobbed and turned, swinging an invisible sword, as if he were in the middle of it all. Then a bolt of light sent a shock through the atmosphere.
“Michael!” Manny exclaimed as he watched heaven’s most powerful angel take on the forces of darkness. The angels fell into formation around him, confusing the enemy. And then . . .
“Now!” At the sound of Michael’s voice, the angels pierced the darkness with a tunnel of light, creating a gateway between the heavens and the café. Angels encircled the column and stood guard.
Heaven is fighting for them. Manny was captivated by the thought. But his vision began to blur.
“Manny . . . Manny?”
Manny looked up at Gabriel. For the second time that day, the smaller angel had tears in his eyes. “This mission is big, isn’t it?”
“Immense. But that’s just it, Manny. They all are.”
When Gabriel left, Manny’s mind was racing. Not with doubts, but questions, for the two are not the same. Even the deepest, darkest questions can lead to a deeper faith. But still, there was so much he couldn’t see. So much he didn’t know. But one thing he did. Even in the darkest of nights, he could always look up.
That night, Manny fell asleep counting the stars.
Chapter 13
Chelsea looked down at a rainbow of colored Sharpie markers, searching for a cheerful spin on the bad news. But no matter how many adjectives her inner thesaurus conjured, Hancock and Emily were unconvinced that their future was “bright,” “exciting,” “promising,” or “adventurous.”
“Are we gonna be okay?” Her son’s stare cut to the bone.
“Of course we’re gonna be okay,” Chelsea said, but she wasn’t convinced. And from the fearful look in her daughter’s eyes, neither was Emily. Chelsea took her daughter’s hand. “Because we have each other. And I’m going to figure this out.”
But after hours of wracking her brain, she was still stumped. And the poster board on the dinner table was still blank. Her sister’s phone call was a welcome distraction.
“Just calling to see how you’re doing,” Sara said.
“I’m okay. I think. I hope. It’s just that this place is special, you know? I hate that it’s ending with me. I feel like I’m letting Mom down. Grandma too.”
“Well, you can’t take all the blame. Mom did leave you with a pretty hefty tab. And as for Grandma . . . I had her jewelry appraised. I figured I could sell it. Help you pay off the debt.”
“I would never accept!”
“Well, you won’t have to. It’s costume jewelry. All of it!”
Chelsea sighed. “When we were growing up I knew times were tough, but I had this fantasy it was all part of some Cinderella story. It was just a matter of time before Prince Charming would come and whisk me away. Clearly, that didn’t happen, but I at least thought my days of pinching pennies were over.”
“Hey, don’t give up on your fairy-tale ending. I have a backup plan.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’m winning the lottery on Tuesday.”
Chelsea laughed. “Go to bed. I’ll talk to you later.”
Chelsea stared again at the expanse of blank poster board. And then it hit her. She grabbed the black marker. Her bold strokes squeaked across the shiny white surface.
No more sugar coating. No more rainbow-hued nostalgia. It was time to face the facts and move on with life.
Chelsea appraised her handiwork. There it was. The simple truth in black-and-white. THE HIGHER GROUNDS CAFÉ HAS GONE OUT OF BUSINESS.
Early Saturday morning, a weary Chelsea descended the stairs, coffee in one hand, poster and tape in the other. She was thankful for her first day of rest in nearly four months. She hadn’t bothered to change out of her robe and slippers. Her hair was unbrushed and her face untouched. There’d be no customers to impress. No coffee to serve. No spills to clean up. Or so she thought.
Midway down the stairs she stopped. Her coffee mug slipped from her fingers and cracked on the hardwood floor.
People were everywhere. Through the front windows she saw multitudes gathering on the porch, spilling out into the lawn in a sea of heads bent over smartphones, laptops, and tablets. The neighborhood was abuzz with activity. And at the center of it all was the Higher Grounds Café.
Chapter 14
I don’t know what’s happening,” Chelsea said to Sara over speakerphone. “But it’s like Walmart on Black Friday!” She and the kids peered at the rapidly growing crowd through the blinds of Hancock and Emily’s bedroom window.
“They’re everywhere, Aunt Sara!” Hancock added.
“I’ve worked in retail,” Sara said. “Seize the moment. Open up the shop!”
Chelsea tallied the crowd. A hundred lattes, easy. “It would be nice to go out with a bang,” Chelsea said. “Let me give Manny a ring.”
His response was immediate: “I’ll be there in a heartbeat!”
An eavesdropper would have thought Chelsea had offered him a dream vacation or a winning lottery ticket rather than an extra day’s work. His enthusiasm was odd. Then again, it was Manny. Chelsea sighed and whispered to herself, “Help is on the way.”
She brushed her teeth, threw on her go-to outfit of sweatshirt and jeans, and ventured downstairs.
She opened the door and stepped through the crowd. “Excuse me. Excuse me.” As she reached the front of the the porch she shouted, “Hello, everyone!” No response. So, louder. “Helloooo!”
Heads snapped up from their technology. What an assorted lot of age, s
kin color, and status. Housewives, students, and businessmen. All eyes were on her, and for a split second Chelsea questioned whether she had indeed remembered to change out of her robe into pants. She felt for pockets. Whew.
“Welcome to the Higher Grounds Café! We will be—”
“Hey, lady. Are you the one answering the questions?” called one of the squatters, as he tossed a cigarette butt on her trampled lawn.
“What ques—” Chelsea started.
“Is it really God?” shouted a teenager.
“Of course it’s God!” an old woman called from the front porch. “Right?” she asked, directing her question at Chelsea.
“I . . . what are you talking about? I don’t really know.”
“I’ll give you one hundred bucks if I can ask another question!” The offer came from a middle-aged man whose laptop was sitting on the hood of a fancy sports car.
His comment sparked a frenzy.
“We can buy more questions?”
“That’s not fair!”
The front lawn turned to chaos. Everyone talked at once, and they all seemed to forget who they were talking to in the first place. No one noticed Chelsea disappear into the café.
“Are all those people coming inside?” Hancock asked. Emily bounded down the stairs behind him.
“Well, if they’re not here to buy coffee, then I don’t want them on our lawn!” Chelsea said. “Something’s going on with that router.”
Hancock and Emily followed Chelsea into the storage closet.
“Whoa!” Hancock saw it first.
The wireless router still sat between stacks of napkins and bags of coffee beans, but its appearance had changed. The glowing sphere was buzzing with energy and activity. Like a web of firing synapses, bursts of blue light danced within the orb. It had the look of lightning in a thundercloud and the whirling sound of a small fan.