| |
When Sandra returned from dropping the kids off at school, struggling under the weight of the baby carrier hanging off her hand, she looked up to see Bob sitting on her porch swing. She knew she should be annoyed by his persistence, but she was happy to see him. How many people can say they’ve been stalked by an angel? “I suppose you’re invisible to everyone but me?”
He nodded and smiled. “Everyone but you and Sammy.”
Sandra looked down at her son, who was smiling broadly and gazing right at Bob.
“Are you ready to go?” Bob asked.
Sandra took a deep breath. Part of her wanted to do this. Part of her knew it was sheer madness. “I’m not sure I’m the right girl for the job.”
“I’ll be right there beside you.”
She came up the steps, set Sammy down so he could still see Bob’s face, and joined the angel on the swing. She stretched her legs out in front of her and looked at Bob, who was making silly faces at Sammy. “What exactly are you expecting us to find out at the widow’s house?”
Bob shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe she killed him.”
What? This angel was nuts. “You want me to have a chat with a murderer?”
“Like I said, I’ll be right there with you.”
That didn’t make Sandra feel much better. “What do you want me to ask her? Hey, I’m sorry for your loss, but did you kill your husband?”
“No, I can’t help but think there was more meaning to his final words than you think. Maybe she’ll know something about it. Just go and offer your condolences, tell her you’re really upset about it, and tell her that you thought she might want to hear his final words.” This all came out quickly. He had obviously thought this through.
Was she really considering this? She looked down at Sammy. “I’m not taking my baby to visit a murderer’s house.”
“Of course not. Is there a grandparent you could leave him with?”
That was annoying. “Sure. In Ohio.”
He frowned and looked around the neighborhood, apparently scanning for anyone who looked like they wanted to babysit an infant right now.
“Never mind. I know a homeschooled teen from church. Let me give her a call.”
––––––––
An hour later, Sandra was driving down the road with an invisible passenger. Was she losing her mind? This was too unreal.
“Don’t feel guilty about leaving Sammy. He’ll be fine.”
Sandra’s eyes snapped toward Bob. “Can you read my mind?”
He put one hand on the dashboard. “Look at the road, please.”
She snickered. “Why? Are you afraid of crashing? Can’t you just disappear at the last second?”
“I’m not afraid of me crashing. I’m afraid of you crashing.
“Okay, I appreciate the concern, but you didn’t answer my question. Can you read my mind?” She really didn’t like that idea.
“Of course not. I can see your face. You have the guilty mom look, but you have nothing to feel guilty about. You never leave your baby, and you’re only doing it this time because you’re doing a really big favor for an angel.”
A thought occurred to her. “Why don’t you just do it? Why do you need me? Why don’t you just appear to her and ask her questions?”
“Because you have an in. You were there when he died.” He paused. “Besides,” he said, his voice growing so quiet she could barely hear him, “we’re really not supposed to appear to people unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“It was absolutely necessary for you to appear to me in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot and make my ice cream melt?” Oh great. Now she was doing the stupid Piggly Wiggly thing too.
He squirmed in his seat. “Like I said, I might be in a bit of trouble here. This hasn’t been my finest hour.”
She felt bad for him then and stopped interrogating him. She pulled her minivan into the driveway of a very nice home. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was big and modern and looked expensive. “What did he do for work, other than refereeing?”
Bob vanished, and for a second Sandra panicked that he had left her. Then she realized that he’d just gotten out of the car. Of course. Why would an angel open the door? She got out of her car the non-supernatural way, and Bob answered her, “He’s retired.”
“I could’ve guessed that much. What did he do before he was retired?”
“He was a teacher.”
She looked up at the house and then back to Bob. “You’re kidding. Well, his wife must make a lot of money.”
“I don’t think she works.” Bob cast her a knowing glance. “Like I said, something hinky. Also, you should stop talking to me, in case she’s looking out a window.”
Sandra took a deep breath. Having an imaginary friend was going to take some getting used to. Maybe she should ask Joanna for some pointers.