Angel Be Good (16 page)

"I agree. Everyone could use a little
Christmas spirit. And don't let on that the toys came from me,
okay? The stores can take a donation later, if they need it for the
bottom line, but I'd just as soon no one knew they were coming from
me." Nat grinned. "Besides, they'd never believe you."

The two of them worked quickly to fill the
truck to overflowing. Then they stood back to survey the results
with large grins on their faces.

"You won't mind delivering my stuff first,
will you?" Nat asked. "That homeless family could use all the
spirit of the season they can get."

"If you don't mind, I'll grab the Missus and
put on my Santa suit first?"

"That's even better, Curtis. Just don't let
on that the stuff came from me."

"Yes, sir. But I don't get it. Why aren't
you letting everyone know how generous you are?"

"I want to do something for the kids,
without ulterior motives." He needed it. Somehow, in being
generous, he felt it would help atone for his lack in the past.

As if he were worried Nat would change his
mind, Curtis scuttled off to perform his errands. Nat returned to
his office, grabbed his coat and briefcase, then headed out on
foot, a teetering pile of gifts balanced in his arms.

Surprisingly, he quickly found a taxi
willing to take him. "Merry Christmas!"

"Don't see what the fuss is all about,"
snarled the cabbie.

Weren't those exactly his own sentiments
less than a day before? Maybe he could share what he'd learned. "I
didn't either until the real meaning of Christmas hit me."

"And what might that be?"

"That by opening ourselves up to being hurt,
we can then experience joy."

"You're crazy, buddy." The cab driver pulled
over at their first destination. Fortunately, the neighborhood
grocery was open. Nat ran inside and returned within minutes, arms
full of delicious smelling food.

As they headed out again, Nat handed the
driver a bag of freshly baked cookies. "For you."

"Thanks. Smells great."

Within minutes, the taxi pulled to the curb.
They'd arrived. "I appreciate the goodies, but I still think you're
crazy."

"Maybe so," said Nat as he pulled a twenty
from his money clip. "But I'll tell you this, I've never been
happier in my life."

He handed the cabby the money. "Keep the
change and Merry Christmas." Nat gathered his packages together and
exited. He glanced up at the old brownstone, wondering if he'd be
welcome.

There was nothing for it but to find out.
Not having a free hand to pull open the outer door, he used his
elbow and managed to work his way inside. He dropped a package to
buzz the correct apartment number.

"Who is it?" asked the faceless voice.

"Nat Danvers."

The door unlocked. Nat pulled it open, then
bent to retrieve his parcel. It hit him, after he came inside,
there were no elevators. He'd have to climb the steep stairs, all
six floors of them.

Nat dismissed the thought that his new
generosity involved an awful lot of work. He usually had a
chauffeur to carry packages and open doors.

At last he reached the top floor. Waiting at
the top of the stairs was his cousin Percy with an excited grin on
his face. Beside him stood Henrietta with a suspicious look.

Nat couldn't blame her. "Merry Christmas,
Coz. If you don't mind, I thought I'd take you up on your offer to
share Christmas dinner."

Percy quickly grabbed a few of Nat's
parcels. "We're delighted to have you. Come on in."

Within minutes, Henri had taken Nat's coat
and hung it up and they were all seated in the living room near the
tree. Nat caught sight of Laura.

"Is this your little princess, Percy? She's
a beauty. Merry Christmas, Laura."

"Hi," the child replied shyly.

"I've got a couple of presents for all of
you. Want to help me pass them out, Laura?"

"You bet!"

Before long, a two huge piles of goodies
were erected, one in front of Laura and the other beside Henri.
Percy shot him a perplexed look when Nat handed him an
envelope.

"You've gone all out, Nat. I hope you know
it wasn't necessary. You're family and belong here."

Nat didn't know what to say. When he did
manage to speak, his voice sounded raspy even to his own ears.
"You've always been kind to me, Perce. I know I haven't deserved
it, but I want you to know I appreciate it."

"Nonsense, you had to do what you had to do.
We've always understood, haven't we, Henri?"

Henrietta pursed her lips, apparently not
wanting to disagree with her husband. Then she leaned forward and
patted Nat's thigh. "I'm glad you've come today. Merry Christmas,
Nat."

"Open your presents, everyone." Nat couldn't
wait to see Laura open some of her gifts. He hoped he'd chosen
things she'd enjoy. He nudged Percy. "Looks like you got the raw
end of the deal, Perce. Open your envelope."

Percy laughed. "At least I've got this
envelope. I'm afraid we weren't expecting you . . . but I'd be glad
to share my new necktie." He pointed to his neck.

A black silk necktie was adorned with
cheerful Santa's pulling toy-laden sleighs. In the background were
snowflakes.

"I'm tempted to do just that. That's a
terrific tie."

Laura giggled. "I picked it out."

"You want a job as a buyer at Danvers and
Son? I'm thinking of changing the name to Danvers and Family."

Henri's face paled. "You don't mean that,
not honestly."

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't. When's this
lunkhead husband of yours going to open his envelope?"

Percy grinned, then pulled the flap open. He
extracted a single piece of paper, a photocopy from Nat's pocket
planner. "What is this?"

"Read it. That's my schedule for
Monday."

Percy looked down, then read it out loud.
"9:00 a.m. Report to Dr for physical and for blood typing." His
gaze shot to Henrietta.

"I asked you not to tell him."

Henri shook her head. "I didn't."

Percy asked, "How did you find out?"

"Let's just say an angel whispered it to
me." Nat put his arm around his cousin's shoulders. "Percy, I want
to help you in any way I can. Just say the word. Kidney, money,
whatever you need that I can help with. I don't want anything to
happen to you."

Percy's face puckered. "Thank you, Nat.
You've always had too big a heart."

It occurred to Nat that Percy had known the
real him all along. Amazing.

Laura clapped her hands and cried out with
glee, "Look at this!" In her hands she held the fairy princess doll
Nat had chosen for her because there was something about the doll's
smile . . .

Henri hugged Nat. "Thank you, Nat. Merry
Christmas. Now, shall we get down to the serious business of
Christmas dinner? Who wants to carve?"

~~~~

Chapter Ten

"I'm feeling fine," insisted Terry. She'd
heard that hospitals these days always tried to release patients
too early. She'd never thought they'd give her such a hard time
about leaving. "My only problem is the bump on my head is a little
sore. Otherwise, I've never felt better in my life."

"You're certainly a miracle, Ms. Montgomery.
I've never seen anyone come back so fast."

"It wasn't my time to die, I guess. Anyway,
I promise to follow orders and not overdo things. But if I don't
leave now, I'll miss Christmas at the mission. I've worked too hard
to make this day special for the kids."

The doctor nodded, then grudgingly signed
her release papers. Terry deliberately didn't mention that she
planned to be doing a lot of the cooking for the mission's
Christmas dinner. Somehow, she didn't think the doctor would like
that idea. But she couldn't let the kids down.

*

Nat stood at the door to Percy's home,
saying goodbye. In his arms, he held Laura, wishing that he could
take her home with him. Wishing that he had a home to go to. He
gave her a final kiss, then set her down.

"You will consider joining us on New Year's
Eve, won't you?" asked Henri. "You could bring a date and we could
play cards."

"Thanks for the invitation. I'm not sure if
I can scrounge up a date or not, but I'll let you know." Nat kissed
her cheek, then gave Percy a final hug. "I'll let you know how the
reports come out on Monday."

Slowly descending the stairs, Nat realized
that he'd hated leaving. He wanted what Percy had, a real family.
Although it was only late afternoon, what was there for him to go
home to? Even his housekeeper was off today.

Nat left the brownstone. Flagging a cab, he
headed home. Upon arriving, he looked around the place with new
eyes. It was sterile; too neat. No little homey touches.

He fingered a valuable statue sitting on his
fireplace mantle. Even it failed to stir his blood, and he'd worked
long and hard to snare it. The place was too quiet. And he ached
inside.

He showered and changed clothes, pulling on
a black t-shirt and pair of jeans from his college days. On a
whimsy, he decided not to shave. He rather liked the dark and
dangerous stranger who looked at him from the mirror. Going into
the living room, he switched on the TV. Nothing grabbed his
interest, not even the financial network.

Grabbing his jacket, he headed out the door.
He'd go back to the office. At least there he wouldn't feel quite
so empty. Work always swept him up and kept him occupied,
especially when he had the building to himself.

A short time later, he sat behind his long
desk, pulling a stack of unread correspondence in front of him. Now
he realized why he hadn't read it. It was deadly dull.

He stood and crossed the room to the doors
that led out on his balcony. A chill wind feathered his hair as he
stepped outside. In a corner, he saw a dark heap. His heart leapt.
Nearing it, he realized it was a discarded blanket. His whole body
shook, as if in reaction. It was just a blanket, nothing to make
his pulse race and then grind to a halt. The only curious thing
about it was how it had come to be here.

Nat wrenched his gaze away and looked out
over the railing. The view was the same as usual. The sky was
overcast, mirroring his emotional state. Now that he'd learned how
good life could be, what was wrong with him?

He must be coming down with a cold. Being
outdoors in the frosty air without a coat couldn't be good for him.
Maybe some aspirin?

Returning inside to look for some, he
noticed the hum of a machine firing up. One of the copiers? Maybe
someone else was feeling as lonely as he. Nat decided to
investigate. The aspirin could wait.

As he walked down the hallway toward the
copy room, he heard a female voice pleading with the machine to
hurry and warm up. At least he hoped she was talking to the
copier.

"Come on, lover. There's a boy. Start your
engines for Mama."

Nat grinned. He'd never tried encouraging a
machine in quite that way before. From the doorway outside, he saw
a medium-height woman patting the top of the color copier. From the
rear, he saw that she had all the right curves. There was something
endearing about the way her brown hair turned up just above her
collar.

He wanted to see her face, knowing that when
he did, she'd be cute. Everything about the way she held
herself—her voice, her actions—proclaimed this woman was cute.

The copier buzzed, and she fed in a sheet of
paper, all the while singing Jingle Bells. Nat took a step into the
room. The woman knelt in front of the machine, evidently looking
for some adjustment. Then her fingers entered an indentation on the
side of the copier.

Nat leapt forward and yanked her hand back.
"Watch out! You almost stapled yourself!"

"Well, thanks for saving me." She smiled at
him, and Nat had an odd sensation of d´eja' vu. It was as if the
floor beneath him had split open, leaving him teetering on a
precipice.

What was wrong with him? She was definitely
cute, from the uptilt of her nose to her too-large brown eyes. But
that didn't explain his reaction to her. His gaze traveled the
length of her. He'd been right—curves in all the correct and most
dangerous places. His gaze settled on the charm bracelet around her
wrist. Where had he seen it before?

Again, the sense of d´eja' vu almost
overwhelmed him. His head spun and he broke out in a sweat. He had
to find some aspirin. Yet a current of sexual awareness seemed to
permeate the air they shared. No woman had ever affected him this
way before.

Then he realized she was looking at him
curiously. "I'm glad you're okay," he stuttered. Great, now he was
tongue tied? He felt like an adolescent having his first
conversation with a girl. Next, he'd probably blush.

She offered her hand. "I'm Terry Montgomery,
in Publicity."

He ran his hand over his raspy day-old
beard, surprised she hadn't recognized him, but then, the Nathaniel
Danvers known through-out the office was staid, dignified and a
royal jerk. If he told her who he was, she'd probably clam up. She
was the most intriguing woman he'd ever met and he didn't want to
lose any chance he might have with her. But he couldn't be less
than honest. He took her hand. "I'm in ... administration."

"Nice to meet you." She smiled, showing a
slight overbite. Darn, she was cute. His mind filled with sensuous
images of her in his arms. Then he realized he hadn't released her
hand. What had come over him? He broke the contact, then shook his
head to clear it.

He had to think of something to say. He
couldn't just stand here staring at her. "What brings you to work
on Christmas Day?"

"I have to finish this report. Danvers wants
it first thing tomorrow." She narrowed her eyes.

Nat wondered if that was a signal to buzz
off, that she was busy. What was so important about some publicity
report. Then he remembered telling his VP of Marketing something
about needing better media coverage. Okay, he'd ordered the woman
to have it on his desk by the day after Christmas. So here was the
person actually doing the work.