When Angels Cry

by Marylu Tyndall

  She took a step back. “Yes, I know Sal, and I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to owe anyone.” Nor pay the price you would expect. Sal was a decent boss who offered a fair wage and kept the rowdy customers off her. He was even understanding when she needed to take off work when Isaac was sick. But his constant salacious offers made her sick to her stomach.

  Growling, he marched away. “I’ll be in my office.”

  Greg gave her an understanding look as he placed drinks on her tray. “You should report him for sexual harassment.”

  “And lose my job? I can’t do that. I have a son to support.” She picked up the tray. “Did you ever read that book I gave you?” He shook his head and started wiping down the bar. “Nope. Too busy working as many extra hours as I can to save for college. You know I wanna get out of here someday.”

  Angelica nodded. So did she—desperately. She hated wearing this skimpy outfit and being constantly ogled and propositioned. She hated serving alcohol to people who abused it. But she’d been sending out resumes for years. Since the economic crash, no one was hiring, and especially not someone without education or skills. God must want her here for a reason. Still, she wouldn’t stop trying.

  Nor would she stop hoping—and praying—for Greg to find the hope he had lost in Jesus. The young bartender wasn’t particularly good-looking, so most women shunned him, not exceptionally bright, so people dismissed him. But he truly cared about others. He had nothing this world valued, but he had a huge heart. “My invitation to come meet my friends on Sunday is always open.”

  He began mixing another drink. “Not much for church, either.” He smiled.

  “It’s not so much a church as it is just people loving on people.”

  Melody darted up, out of breath, and spouted off a list of drinks to Greg. “Crazy crowd tonight.” She glanced over her shoulder at a group of college kids doing shots and getting louder by the minute. Though there wasn’t a dance floor, two couples started dancing, if you could call it that. Bumping and grinding was more like it.

  “Hang in there, Mel. Just three hours to go.” Angelica patted the girl on the arm.

  Her lips slanted. “Yeah, but then I work the breakfast shift at the pancake house.”

  Greg set a drink on her tray. “I don’t know how you do it all with two kids at home.”

  Neither did Angelica. In fact, the normally gorgeous dark-skinned lady looked more tired than her thirty-seven years warranted. She received no child support for her two kids due to one father missing and another in jail for abuse. But she was a hard worker, and a mama tiger who would do anything for her kids.

  On that point, Angelica could relate. Lifting up a prayer for the lady, she headed back onto the floor, praying silently for each person she passed, for God to protect them from evil and to open their eyes to the truth.

  She delivered the drinks without incident, took another order, and was passing by a table when a hand reached out for her, halting her in her path. Turning, she braced herself to fight off yet another immoral proposal. What she didn’t expect was to see Daniel Cain, sitting there all handsome in his T-shirt and jeans, a glass of sparkling water in his hand.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you.” The appeal in his eyes would soften Genghis Kahn.

  “You shouldn’t be here. Go home.” Turning, she walked away—anger, frustration, and fear all battling for dominance.

  Following her, he turned her about. “Please, meet me for coffee after work.”

  Was he kidding? She stared at him. She had the perfect excuse—a child to get home to. But she couldn’t seem to say the words. The music switched to some techno tune, shaking the floor beneath them. Drunken laughter bombarded her from all directions. The odor of alcohol, cheap perfume, and sweat filled her nose. And in the midst of it, she sensed light and goodness. Her angel appeared behind Daniel and another angel she’d not seen before—there one second and then they were gone.

  “Okay. Denny’s on Sunrise Blvd. 2:30.”

  Before giving him a chance to respond, she spun around and wove through the crowd, instantly regretting her easy acquiescence.

  ♦♦♦

  Daniel tapped his spoon on the table and glanced out the smudged windows of Denny’s into the darkness. The smell of stale coffee and grease made him think twice about having ordered a salad, wondering what condition he’d find it in. But he’d skipped dinner. And Angelica was late. He glanced at his Rolex again—2:45—and then looked over the mob that had swamped the restaurant as soon as the bars closed. He felt sorry for the poor waitresses, scrambling around delivering food and enduring lurid invitations for probably no tips. These were the exact people he had originally wanted to reach for Christ—the drunks, the downtrodden, the poor, and hopeless. They had been the reason he’d entered seminary and why he’d started a church on the Fort Lauderdale strip. He smiled, remembering those carefree days with Thomas, Brian, Joe, and Mindy as they shared the gospel with anyone who would listen. Just a group of young dreamers who thought they could change the world. They had saved a few. But the money had run out, dreams faded, and they split up in search of greener pastures. Thomas—along with his head for business—had convinced Daniel to rent a nearby warehouse and lure the people from the beach to an actual church service every Sunday where they felt obligated to tithe.

  “We can’t keep doing this for free,” he had said. “You have a gift, bro, and you shouldn’t give it away. Neither of us went to seminary to end up homeless.”

  So, Fort Lauderdale Church of Grace was born. Daniel was the charisma and Thomas the business mind. And the two of them had become unstoppable.

  His thoughts drifted to Angel and her friends witnessing to people on the beach that morning. Watching them had stirred a longing within him for the good ole days, the powerful sense of God’s presence, the excitement at yanking a person from the grip of hell. But those days were gone. They lived in a different era now with a government hostile to Christians. Especially nutty ones.

  Besides, Daniel could do more good from the pulpit of a huge church than anywhere else. And quite possibly from D.C. in the near future.

  He smiled as the bell at the door jangled, and Angel entered and glanced around. Only then did he realize he’d expected her not to show. As she’d done twelve years ago when she broke his heart. Still dressed in her alluring waitress get-up, several men turned to stare. But upon spotting Daniel, she ignored them like a pro and headed his way. Man, she was an attractive woman, even after all these years, even after having a kid. That last thought sobered him.

  Sliding onto the seat across from him, she set down her purse and let out a huge sigh as if this was the last place on earth she wanted to be. “So, I’m here.”

  Ignoring the pang in his heart, Daniel sipped his coffee. “Thank you for meeting me.”

  She pursed her lips and waited.

  The waitress brought his salad and slapped it on the table before turning to Angel.

  “Just coffee, please,” she said before noticing his food and laughing. “I can’t believe you’re eating a salad. From Denny’s!”

  He had forgotten how beautiful her smile was and how the sound of her laughter soothed the tension from his neck and shoulders.

  “Yeah, I keep to a pretty strict diet now. Can’t eat cheeseburgers forever.”

  “I don’t see why not.” She shrugged playfully. “And, if I remember, you always added fries and a chocolate milk shake.”

  He smiled. “So you do remember me.”

  “How could I not?” She shot back as the waitress returned with her coffee.

  He tried to regain her smile. “You’re still as beautiful as I remember.”

  Tearing a packet, she dumped sugar into her cup. “Give me a break. I’m not twenty anymore. Your charm won’t work on me.”

  “If I recall, it never did. You always saw through me.”

  She poured cream into her coffee and stirred it, and he noted n
o ring graced her finger.

  “So, you have a son?”

  “As you saw,” she answered without looking up.

  Why did the thought disturb him so? “You must have met his father shortly after we…” He hesitated, seeking the right words.

  Her eyes met his, a flash of anger, followed by sorrow. She looked away. “I was a different person back then. I was heartbroken and needed comfort.”

  Heartbroken? He huffed. “How quickly you moved on…within weeks.” While he was drowning in agony.

  “What did you expect me to do?” Spite filled her tone, and he stared at her, confused.

  He had expected her to return his calls, answer his emails and letters, show up at their favorite haunts. But none of that had happened. “Where is his father now?”

  “I don’t owe you any explanations, Daniel.” She cupped her coffee and stared out the window.

  He dove his fork into the salad. He was botching this. Although he had no idea what “this” was. “No, you don’t,” he finally said, unsure how to proceed. Which baffled him. Famous, charismatic Daniel Cain always had an answer, always knew what to say to charm people and persuade them to his way of thinking.

  But suddenly in this woman’s presence, he felt like a twenty-one-year-old boy on his first date.

  He watched her as she fingered her dangly earrings, a gesture that brought back memories of that first date so long ago. He’d taken her to the Oceans Grille on the beach. Nothing fancy, but it was all he could afford. She had been delighted. He could still picture her sitting at a table on the patio, gazing at the ocean, her long sun-bleached hair blowing in the wind, her skin tanned and golden, her green eyes mesmerizing. But it was her smile, her laugh, her love of life and everything in it that had captured his heart.

  Time had drawn a few lines around her eyes and mouth, but she was still stunning. Life and love sparkled in her eyes. Yet there was sorrow there, too, and worry he’d not seen before.

  “Honestly, it’s just good to see you again,” he said.

  She sipped her coffee. “What do you want, Daniel?”

  Her abrupt tone sliced. What did he want? He wanted to run his fingers through her hair. He wanted to apologize for whatever had come between them. He wanted to start over. “You always were so bluntly honest. I loved that about you.”

  Drunken laughter blared over them from a table across the way, drawing her gaze, those eyes of hers, so bright and intelligent, even masked by all the makeup. Yet, there was no judgment in them. Another couple in a table next to theirs stared at them curiously.

  “I always felt safe with you, Angel, like I could tell you anything and you would never condemn me.”

  “It wasn’t my place to condemn you, Daniel. I was just as lost.”

  Humility. Another of her qualities he had loved.

  “Listen, Daniel. I’m tired. I want to go home. Either tell me what you want, or I’m leaving.”

  Chapter 4

  If you were of the world, the world would love its own. Yet because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you.

  John 15:19 (NKJV)

  Angelica cringed at the pain on Daniel’s face, but it couldn’t be helped. If he thought he was going to charm his way into her life again…if he thought she’d fall at his feet—like she was sure so many other women did—he had another thing coming.

  Though she could see why any woman would do such a thing. With his thick chestnut hair and the stubble on his chin to match, those deep blue eyes, and an incredible physique…well, put a kilt on the man and he could pass for a hunky highlander. Add to that the way he lifted one side of his lips to form that sexy dimple she remembered all too well, his perfect teeth, and his success and fortune, she imagined he had left a string of broken hearts after hers.

  “Sorry to keep you. I’ll be brief.” He shoved away the salad he’d barely touched, instantly stiffening. “I have a question and a warning. First the question. What did you mean by I’m not ready and my light has gone out?” He stared at her as a business man would awaiting a report.

  “I don’t know.” Though she could guess—as he should be able to, as well. “God gave me those exact words. Why don’t you ask Him? You’re the pastor.” She regretted her flippant tone yet again, but talking with Daniel, sitting so close to him, was stirring up things she’d long since buried.

  And she couldn’t allow that to happen. Wouldn’t allow that to happen.

  His forehead wrinkled. “Yeah, right. God speaks to you in specifics.”

  “He doesn’t to you?”

  He looked perplexed for a moment, then he leaned his arms on the table and grinned. “Perhaps it was your inner self simply wanting to see me again.”

  She pressed into the back of the booth, putting as much distance between them as she could. “I’ve known where you’ve been since you started your church, Daniel. Why would I all of a sudden want to see you?”

  He shrugged. “We were friends once. Good friends.”

  She gazed out the window at the few passing cars. No, we were so much more than friends. I was in love with you. Deeply and madly. So much so, that it had taken her years to get over him. Father, what do You want from me? I can’t bear to reopen these wounds.

  The answer came swift, deep, and without words. He must return to me. Soon.

  Why me? She wanted to ask, but didn’t. God knew what He was doing, right? And it was always for the good. Taking a moment, she shifted her focus into the spirit realm and saw Daniel sitting in a fog so dark and thick, she could barely make out his features. Chains wrapped around his chest and arms, while a speck of light barely flickered from inside his soul. She shook off the vision, sorrow clamping her heart. She wanted to help him, she truly did, but nobody listened to her or did what she said, least of all an important man like Daniel Cain.

  “Daniel, listen. God doesn’t give me a message unless it means something and is important. I suggest you pray about it, seek Him, and remember your first love.”

  “Me? Remember my first love?” He snorted in disbelief. “Do you know how many people come forward a week in my church to accept Jesus?”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  Shock followed by annoyance claimed his handsome features.

  “You were so on fire for the Father back then,” she said. “So ready to serve Him. Even though I didn’t believe in God at the time, I loved your zeal.” And now it was gone. Just a spark remained. But how could she tell him that?

  Anger fumed in his eyes. “I serve God every day. My whole life is serving Him. How do you—a cocktail waitress—presume to tell me, a man who pastors twenty thousand souls each week, that I’m not on fire for God?”

  Grabbing her purse, she slid across the seat. “You know. You’re right. I should leave.”

  She heard his “wait” behind her as she stormed out the door into the humid night air, more angry than she’d been in a long while. But that was Daniel. He always caused her emotions, both good and bad, to vault off the scale. Groaning, she fished for her keys in her purse and made her way to her car. All she wanted to do was go home, take a hot bath, slide under the covers…

  And forget Daniel Cain.

  Glass shattered and she looked up to see three men surrounding her car. Her back window was scattered over the asphalt in glittering pebbles in the street light. One man was spray-painting something on her door.

  Without thinking, she marched toward them. “Hey, that’s my car!”

  All three men faced her. Two wore hoodies that hid their faces, the other approached her. Tall, skinny, and dark, he looked her up and down contemptuously. “You the Jesus freak?” He gestured toward her bumper sticker with the sledgehammer in his hand.

  Angelica swallowed, her first thought to run. Instead, she lifted her chin. She would not deny her faith. “Yes.”

  The other two men finished their paint job and stood back to admire their work. Bigot Hater was sprawled in
white across the side of her black Toyota.

  That would cost her a ton of money to fix. Along with the window. Money she didn’t have.

  “What makes me a bigot?” she asked, rage fueling her courage.

  The man, who could be no older than twenty, sneered at her. “You think anyone who’s different from you is going to hell, anyone who don’t believe like you do.”

  “Hey, ain’t you supposed to be dressed more proper?” One of the artists said as he and his friend approached. “Not showing so much skin?”

  The third man licked his lips. “I say we show this bigot what’s what. Ready to party, Jesus freak?”

  Angelica’s blood pounded through her veins. Lord? She tried to switch her vision to the spirit realm in order to spot her angel, but her mind spun in terror. Still, she managed to spit out, “There’s a difference between bigotry and the truth, gentlemen. One will lead you to hell, the other to heaven.”

  The first man grabbed her shoulders and started to drag her off while another one took her purse. “We’ll show you heaven, whore.”

  The fist came out of nowhere, striking the man’s jaw who held her. He released her, and she stumbled back, tripping on her ridiculous high heels. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daniel kick the next guy and then charge the third one, barreling into him like a bulldozer. The first man spit to the side, wiped blood from his mouth, grabbed the sledgehammer, and swung it at Daniel.

  Angelica tried to scream but nothing came out.

  Daniel ducked, then gripped the man’s wrist and forced the hammer from his grasp. It fell on his foot, and he shouted in pain.

  “Come on, Nick. Let’s get outa here!” one of the men yelled as he scrambled away. After one last seething glare at Daniel, the one called Nick limped into the darkness.

  It had all happened so fast, Angelica could only stand there and stare as Daniel picked up her purse and handed it to her. “You all right?”

  Taking it, she nodded.

  He glanced at her car and ran a hand through his hair. “Why would they do that?” Then his eyes landed on her bumper sticker. Jesus, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. He swung to face her. “What were you thinking?”