“I should’ve listened to you, Mom,” Isabel whispered. She glanced once more at the photo before she set it on the desk. “If I had, everything would be different now.”
Faruk popped into one of the chairs in front of her desk and she nearly screamed.
“Stop doing that!” she said.
“Sorry, I haven’t figured out yet how to enter a room without startling someone.”
With her hands clasped and resting on top of her desk, Isabel hitched an eyebrow. “And why is that?” she asked in her courtroom voice. “Are you new to this guardian angel thing?”
He laughed nervously. “As a matter of fact, I am. I normally work at the check-in desk, but today I’m on special assignment.”
“Check-in desk?” She lifted the other eyebrow. “You mean for the...newly dead?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“I see.” She narrowed her eyes. “So why did they send you down here? What is the special assignment you’re working on? Does it involve me?”
“If I told you—”
“I know, you’d have to kill me. So that means you can’t tell me anything at all about why you’re here with me? Have I done something wrong? I mean besides the fact that I’ve managed to screw up my entire life?”
Faruk sighed. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything, but...what the heck. I’m here to help you see the error of your ways. To help you understand where things went wrong in your life. And why.”
She studied him for a long moment before she responded. “I was just thinking about my mother’s last words. About following my heart. My mother was my biggest fan. She read every story I ever wrote and proclaimed that I would one day become a famous author. She believed in me.
“I remember now why I made the decision to become a lawyer. It was a short-sighted decision, made at a time when I was at my most vulnerable. I needed my father. We needed each other. But the decision I made hasn’t made either of us happy. Well, it hasn’t made me happy, at any rate. And somewhere deep inside, he must know that. I guess I’m just afraid to quit. Afraid to put his love to the test.”
“Why?” Faruk asked. “What do you think would happen if you quit and your father stopped loving you?”
“I would die without his love.”
Faruk tilted his head. “Why? If your father only loves you for what you are and not who you are—his child, his flesh and blood—then what does that say about him?”
She thought about it. “That he doesn’t really love me?”
“Right. And?”
“And...that he’s not worthy of my love?”
“Bazinga!”
She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Okay, I get it. Maybe I’ll quit tomorrow, but right now I’ve got a case that’s going to go straight down the crapper if I don’t quit bullshitting with you and get back to work.”
“Though I don’t know exactly what this ‘crapper’ thing you speak of is, I am smart enough to get your message. I will get out of here and let you get back to work. But just so you don’t worry, no time at all has passed since I popped in. This discussion we’ve had has taken place outside of the real world, as you humans call it.”
Cool. But still, she had work to do.
The afternoon passed in a flash as they sifted through the contents of the boxes and searched for the key that would prove their client’s innocence. After admonishing Paul Martin about his offensive wardrobe and insisting he go shopping the next day, she sent Paul and Erin home and continued to work.
She found what she was looking for in box number nineteen and, satisfied that her case was in good shape, she grabbed her purse and headed out to meet her friends. Mentally exhausted from the day, she considered bailing on dinner, but as soon as she got into the car and pulled the door closed, Faruk appeared.
This time she’d half expected it and wasn’t startled by his appearance. Either that, or his entry skills had improved. Regardless, he insisted that she go to dinner even if he had to drive her there himself.
She sighed. “Okay, but I’m a little worn out from all the life lessons I’ve received today. It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve shown me, but can tonight just be about fun?”
“I’m afraid not,” he said.
She groaned. Who was she kidding anyway? Fun was no longer in her vocabulary. Hadn’t been for years.
She handed over her keys to the valet attendant at the Matterhorn Swiss and went inside. Her friends sat in a corner booth. She apologized for being late, and after she guzzled down a glass of champagne, she relaxed.
“Rough day?” Sam asked.
Well, that depends on how you look at it. I woke up a paralyzed mute, left the house a soon-to-be-divorcee, and got scolded by my father for being thirty freaking minutes late to work. All in all, I’d say it pretty much sucked. Except for the part when I met my guardian angel, Faruk. That was pretty cool.
“Thanks.” Faruk beamed with pride as he hovered above Sam.
You’re welcome.
“Yep.” She slid her glass to the center of the table. “Refill, please.”
Sam poured another glass and pushed it toward her.
“How’s that brother of mine doing?” Sam asked.
Her head spun, and not because of the bubbly. Although that didn’t help. She was tired of thinking about Michael. Tired of thinking, period. Let’s just lighten things up a little, shall we?
“Taking a lot of cold showers these days,” Isabel said. “He hasn’t been getting much lately.”
Or had he?
All the girls laughed, especially Sam. “What? Mr. Romance himself? Really?”
Laughter. Good!
“Yeah, Mr. Romance has turned into Mr. No Romance Required,” Isabel said.
The girls erupted in laughter.
“Oh yeah, and he’s fucking someone named Deby. Asked me for a divorce today, too.”
The table fell silent. Her friends’ expressions changed from gleeful to forlorn.
Shit. Should’ve kept it light.
Sam pushed the bottle of champagne closer to her friend. “I’m sorry, Is. Do you want me to kick the crap out of him?”
Yes, please.
The rest of the evening turned out to be a bitch-fest. She listened as each of her friends spoke and she realized that tonight was not unlike the last several get-togethers they’d had. When had they become such a pathetic bunch?
Whatever happened to the carefree, take-the-world-by-storm attitude they’d all had back in college? Sure, they were all grown up and led busy lives, but when had they stopped celebrating life and started lamenting it? It’s not as if they were in their fifties or anything. They were young, vibrant women who still had a lot to offer. To the world, and to each other.
She opened her mouth to say something but suddenly became mute again. She glared at Faruk, who offered only an apologetic smile in return. She wanted to scream. Shout. Something! Her entire life had become a complete disaster, and this had been the worst day ever.
Or was it? Because, thanks to Faruk, she now understood why she was so unhappy. Tomorrow would be different, she promised herself. Tomorrow, assuming she had regained full control over her limbs and her voice, she would take steps to change her life.
When the evening finally ended, she hugged the girls goodbye and gave her ticket to the valet attendant. She looked at her watch just as the valet arrived with her car. It was 10:07 p.m. She climbed in and turned right onto Van Ness Avenue, headed toward the onramp to the 101 South.
As she drove southbound toward home, she thought about the day and all she’d learned about herself. That she had willingly given her father control of her life. That she’d handed it over to him in a weak moment. At a time when she wanted—no, needed—him more than ever. And, consciously or not, he had taken advantage of her. But it wasn’t too late for her to reclaim her life. Her passion for writing had to be in there somewhere.
And then there was Michael. Today she realized that she still loved him as much as ever. But she also realized that she was angry with him. And with herself, if she was completely honest. They should’ve discussed what they wanted from the future before they got married. They were both to blame for that. Now she had a decision to make. If she was going to stay with him, he was going to have to agree to have a child. If not, she would leave. Unless he left her first. But what she realized most of all was that she was sick and tired of being miserable. She wanted to live. Really live.
Oh, how she wanted to live.