Angel Be Good (8 page)

A family who gave dreams for Christmas. It
tore at Nat's heart.

The whole family heartily cheered as the
father served up their dinner. Then the glass became dull, making
Nat wonder if that was it for Christmas Present?

Lovely drifts of snowfall filled the
copier's surface, bringing with it the sound of carolers singing
joyous Christmas song. A curtain opened in the snow, centering on
the ragtag group of carolers. They strolled down a quiet
neighborhood street, stopping at times to serenade passers by.

Nat marveled that he could smell heavenly
scents from dinners cooking, pies cooling on shelves at open
windows. He could see hearths lit with fire, bringing a warm
welcoming glow to homes along the route. As cabs stopped to let out
arrivals, family members would come out from doorways to greet them
with calls of "Merry Christmas" and "I'm so glad you could
come!"

Even the cab drivers seemed joyous. He could
hear one, surely an opera singer, belting out the Hallelujah Chorus
through his open car window.

It was exciting heady stuff to be out in
humanity sharing love for mankind amid the lights and the snow.
Then the camera stopped, holding back from the carolers and Nat
watched their retreating backs with a sense of loss. The view
turned to an old walk-up and closed in on a particular window
several stories up.

Curtains fluttered and the camera entered
the room. Nat saw a comfortable living room, then the image panned
in on Percy seated on an overstuffed chair. What was it about Percy
that made him of such interest?

Nat searched the scene for Laura and found
her seated, playing with a doll just beyond the chair. Percy and
his wife, Henrietta, were in quiet conversation in the
forefront.

"I can't help wondering if this will be our
last Christmas together, Perce."

"Don't be such a pessimist, Henri. I'll get
a donor, you wait and see."

"The doctors said you need that kidney right
away. There isn't much time left to find a match."

"I'm thinking of asking Nat." He beamed with
that annoying smile.

The woman laughed, a painful aching sound.
"Don't take optimism to a new high. He wouldn't give you an old
pair of shoes, much less a kidney. And even if he were the generous
sort, and you know he's far from that, there's no guarantee it
would be a match."

"With dialysis, I've still got time
enough."

"I hope and pray there is time." A tear
leaked from her eye, and she swatted it away as if it were a
bothersome insect. "I feel like such a vulture, hoping that the
next traffic accident will take—kill—someone so you can have life.
I worry that I'll be punished for having such thoughts."

Tears now fell heedlessly from her face. "I
worry that you'll be taken away from me and Laura, and I can't bear
the idea. Oh, Percy. What will happen to us all?"

Percy took his wife into his arms. "Hush
now. Everything will be all right. You'll see. Let's worry over
this another time. It's Christmas Eve. Let's not spoil it by
worrying over what if.

He kissed her tenderly, then blotted away
her tears with his necktie. She smiled tremulously at him, then
nodded and settled her head upon his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas, Percy."

The copier went black. Nat wondered if his
heart was black as well. Dammit, why hadn't Percy told him? He was
the only family Nat had left and surely he should have been the
first to know. "I had no idea."

~~~~

Chapter Five

"Don't be hurt, Nat," Daphne said in gentle
tones. As she'd watched the mortar drop from the wall he had built
to protect his heart, she realized she'd been wrong about him.

His heart hadn't been too small—it had been
too large. He'd convinced himself that such a barrier was a
necessity to keep his soul from splintering. "Percy doesn't seem
the type to share his burdens, he hides them beneath that wonderful
grin of his, not wanting others to worry."

"He should have told me."

"If he had, what would you have done?"

"Done? Why, I'd have . . . " Damn, she was
right, thought Nat. The words died on his tongue. What would he
have done? Hell, he'd been planning to fire his only relation.
Seeing the past and the present had changed him. As he'd been
afraid it would. Now he began to feel grateful for the changes.

Yes, the world was filled with pain and
sorrow, but dammit, he of all people was in a position to alleviate
some of it. He'd worked his rear off amassing piles of money. Why
shouldn't he use it now to benefit the people he cared about?

He'd been so self-centered, he hadn't been
able to see how his actions affected others, hadn't wanted to care.
It wasn't too late to change. Daphne had shown him that.

"I don't think I'd have been much help
before meeting you, Daph. Now, I know exactly what to do. I'll have
the blood work done up tomorrow."

"It's Christmas day."

"Yes, but that emergency room had doctors
and nurses in it. If they're too busy, I know a plastic surgeon
who's quite capable who can do it. He owes me a few favors anyway."
As many women as he'd referred to the man, Doc Hanover owed him a
lot. Then it hit him. The point she made about it being Christmas
day. He looked at her and knew his expression was sheepish, but
there was nothing he could do to turn it off. "I'll wait until the
next normal business day, then. That hospital looked like it could
use a new wing or two anyway. How about if I call it the Daphne
Kidney Research Hall?"

She looked at him curiously for a moment,
then shook her head. "Leonard Hall."

Nat smiled. "You got it. Let's go to my
office so I can make plans."

Within moments they were back in his lair.
Daphne crossed the room and poured herself another shot. Nat's life
was more painful than she'd ever imagined. Would she have turned
out any differently if her circumstances had been similar? Growing
up, his only emotional support had come from hired staff. Was it
any wonder he couldn't believe love was lasting?

Nat had always been incredibly magnetic, but
now she felt as though they'd undergone a battle together and come
out safely. It drew them closer than she'd thought possible. She
knew him in a way no other person did and it frightened her at the
same time it bound her to him.

When he'd made his one attempt to love a
woman, he'd chosen badly, based on her image rather than the
quality of her heart. And now, having watched the consequences of
hiding his heart, he had to face the very things he'd most wanted
to avoid: caring for someone often meant experiencing pain as well.
It was the price people paid for living fully. Unfortunately, Nat
had never received the rewards.

This was a stinking job.

She looked across the room at him. When
they'd returned, Nat had gone right to work at his desk, making
marks in his little calendar, oblivious to her and his
surroundings. A bell tinkled and Leonard appeared by her side.

"You need to cut back, Daphne," the angel
chided her gently. "Drinking won't solve anything."

"You're right, I know. But I needed it." She
watched Nat. He hadn't shifted, hadn't noticed her talking with
Leonard. Hearing the sound of harp strings, her gaze shot back to
Leonard who gave her an innocent look.

Reaching down to take another gulp of
whiskey, she saw that the color was off. She took a tentative sip.
Lemonade.

With a twinkle in his eye, Leonard said, "If
life gives you lemons . . . "

"What a joker."

"While Nat's occupied, I thought you might
like to look at a couple of other possibilities for you. There's a
television actress in Hollywood—"

"I can't do it now. There's still a lot to
be done and Nat needs me." Had watching what had shaped Nat changed
her too? No matter how she tried to stir up interest in the
selection of her new body, she couldn't find it. Instead, she
wanted to remain here with Nat, to help him cope with all he'd
learned. His lessons weren't complete yet, and he needed
someone—her—to interpret things for him. To help him
understand.

"You'll have plenty of time to help him
after we return." Leonard offered his hand. She reluctantly grasped
it. Immediately, the familiar dizziness enveloped her and when she
regained her senses, she found they were in a small living room
with a young woman seated on the floor, wrapping Christmas gifts.
"Can she see us?"

Leonard shook his head, "She can neither see
nor hear us. Her name is Terry Montgomery. She's wrapping toys for
the kids at the mission. Her soul has a very special place reserved
in heaven."

"She looks perfectly healthy."

"An illness will not claim her. I'm afraid
that Terry has a weakness for men in leather."

"What?" Daphne couldn't have heard
right.

Leonard nodded. "She'll die due to a head
injury suffered during fisticuffs at the local, um, I believe it's
called a biker bar?"

Daphne watched Terry wrapping another gift.
"Oh my—goodness. She looks so normal. She's not . . . strange, is
she?"

"Heavens, no," Leonard said reassuringly.
"Terry just likes life with a dash of risk. She also has other
advantages."

"And what would those be?"

Leonard's eyes twinkled. "She . . . lives in
New York City rather than a more remote location."

Daphne crossed her arms. "Why do I feel like
you're not telling me everything?"

"Sometimes these things are best left to
fate. Now, I have two other choices for you to see. Shall we
go?"

Nodding acceptance, she kept her gaze on
Terry. Thankfully, Daphne didn't see any tattoos. Although life
with a modicum of risk was her preference, a tattoo would be more
than even she could tolerate.

The dizzy movement swept them up again, and
when it ceased, Daphne now found herself outside on the street.
"Where are we?"

"Another of your choices is due along any
moment." Leonard peered to his left. "Ah, here she is now."

Daphne saw an incredibly beautiful woman
walking toward them, grace in every step of her model-long legs. In
the woman's left hand was a dog leash and a darling schnauzer
scooted along with her. To her right, a handsome business man,
dressed in an expensive looking cashmere coat smiled at the woman
indulgently.

"I could be her?"

Leonard nodded. "She's lovely, isn’t she?
And the gentleman is her husband."

"Oh, gosh. I never imagined it would be so
hard to pick, to make a decision." She'd also never imagined that
she could look good enough to grace the covers of the TV Guide. But
could she learn to love Mr. GQ? "I think I'd prefer to choose my
own husband. I want to fall in love."

"There's one more for you to see. Shall
we?"

Daphne could almost get used to Leonard's
form of travel. No plane tickets, no bus schedules. Just decide
where you're going and, bingo, you've arrived.

They'd settled in a warm coffee shop lined
with booths and a row of chairs in front of a long counter. Leonard
pointed at the counter.

Daphne saw a buxom woman serving coffee and
advice to a female customer. With an obvious Texas accent, the
waitress drawled, "You'll have nothing to do with him if you're
smart."

"Which one do you mean?" asked Daphne.

"The waitress, Elizabeth McGuire."

Daphne saw the customer shrug, then reply,
"I guess I'm not very smart, Lizzy."

"It's Christmas. Anything could happen. For
Christmas I'm giving you a present—smarts. Dump the jerk." She
grinned, then turned and grabbed a piece of pie to place in front
of another customer.

"Do you like Elizabeth?" asked Leonard.

How could she tell anything about any of
these women? They all seemed acceptable choices. With a cringe, she
thought of Terry. Maybe some candidates were more acceptable than
others. But she couldn't imagine waking up in the morning and
seeing any image other than her own in the bathroom mirror.

She'd seen four women so far, four women
whose shoes she could try to fill. Not only did the thought depress
her, she just wanted to get back to Nat.

"Tell you what, Leonard," she finally said.
"Forget about how the women look. Find me someone who's good
hearted. That's the most important thing. I'm sure I'll be happy
with your choice."

"Are you certain?"

Daphne bit back a laugh. "No, I have a
feeling there's no such thing as certainty. It's the best I can
do."

She looked deeply into the angel's blue
eyes. "I trust you, Leonard. You'll know when you find the right
choice for me."

Was that a tear almost falling from his
eyes? Could angels cry? "Unexpected insight, and from such a young
woman. The Angelic Council selected wisely."

"An hour ago I hadn't known what was really
important."

Again, Leonard worked his magic, promptly
returning them to Nat's office.

"Don't short change yourself, my dear," the
angel said. "You had it in you all along. Now keep at the young
man, and I'll be back when it's time for you to leave."

"Wait. What's going to happen? To Nat? To
me?"

Leonard gave her a perplexed look, then his
features smoothed. "When you leave?"

She nodded.

"Nat won't remember all this, won't remember
you or your role in helping him. However, he will remember the
lessons he's learned and we're hopeful he'll put them into
practice."

"And me? Will I remember?"

Leonard shook his head. "If your
transformation is to be complete, then you'll become the person
whose body you've entered. Her memories, her past, will merge with
your own. Yet your future will be shaped by who you are, rather
than who she was. It will be yours to make with it what you
will."

"So I won't remember heaven. I won't
remember you. I won't remember Nat." A momentary panic seized her.
"This is all so frightening, like jumping from a tall building
without a net below. Will I still be me?"