“He likes Julie,” Shirley said with a rather smug smile.
“She amuses him.” Goodness wasn’t fooled. Roy had no real feelings for Julie. She wasn’t typical of the women he’d known and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. The laughter had been good for him. It had felt good, too, and that feeling had left him with the urge to laugh more. She suspected it was the reason he’d pursued Julie during her long walk home. Their shared pizza dinner had come about unexpectedly, and yet he was enjoying himself. They both were.
“Her stubbornness intrigues him,” Goodness added. “He can’t understand why she isn’t interested in the settlement.”
“Julie has principles,” Shirley announced, “and Roy hasn’t seen that in a woman in quite a while. Since before Aimee.”
Mercy agreed. “What should happen next?”
The other angels looked at Goodness as if she was the one with the answers. “How should I know?” She shrugged, as much at a loss as her friends. This relationship was a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants affair. “I’m making this up as we go along.”
“Yes, but you’ve done such good work so far.”
“Me?” Goodness cried. “This is a team effort.” She peered down through the cloud cover and stared into the house below. “They’re eating their pizza now.”
“And talking,” Mercy noted with delight.
“No one seems to be yelling, either,” Shirley said. “That’s a good sign, don’t you think?”
Goodness nodded. “He should ask her out next,” she told the others, suddenly inspired. That seemed to be the most logical step. Not that she was convinced this relationship had much of a future.
“Out?” Mercy repeated. “You mean like on a date?”
“Yes, a date. He implied that he was interested in getting her on neutral turf, remember?” That was the way humans generally did those things, Goodness reasoned, because then no one had an unfair advantage. She gave a rueful grin. Humans tended to be so competitive….
“Roy doesn’t date,” Mercy pointed out. “Not in years. He’s forgotten how. Besides, he’s got this thing about women.” From the exasperated look she wore, one might think Goodness had suggested Roy propose marriage as his next move.
“Then he has to believe it isn’t a date.” Goodness’s head was spinning. Surely there was some social event he was obliged to attend. December was the month for that sort of function.
“Think,” Mercy demanded.
Suddenly the air brightened and with a sound like thunder the Archangel Gabriel joined them. He held a massive volume in his hands. The Book of Lives. “How’s it going, ladies?” he inquired.
The three of them rushed to give him brief updates. “Great,” Goodness said cheerfully.
“Yes—very good,” Mercy seconded.
“We think Julie Wilcoff is the answer to Anne’s prayer,” Shirley told him. “They’re together now.”
Gabriel seemed impressed. “And you three arranged that?”
Goodness swallowed hard. If she admitted their role in the bike accident, it could mean trouble. Much better if Gabriel didn’t know about their little scheme. “Not entirely,” she said—which was the truth. Still, it sounded becomingly modest.
“How’s Anne?” Gabriel surprised her by asking.
Shirley, Goodness and Mercy froze. If he found out that Shirley had appeared to Anne, they could forget ever coming to Earth again. “Fine,” Goodness said, and to her horror her voice squeaked. “She’s painting Roy’s office windows on Wednesday.”
“An angel scene, if I remember correctly,” Gabriel said, studying them carefully.
“What a nice idea.” Mercy looked frantically to her friends for help.
“I can’t imagine where she came up with that idea.” Gabriel’s eyes seemed to bore straight through them.
The three of them huddled close together. “It’s that time of year, isn’t it?” Goodness asked. “I mean, humans seem to associate Christmas with angels.”
Mercy spread her wings and stepped forward. “Glory to God in the Highest,” she said.
“Glory to God,” Shirley echoed.
“Exactly,” Goodness said. “We were there to announce the good news to the shepherds that night. Well, not us, exactly, but angels like us.”
“I know all about that night, Goodness.”
“Of course you do,” she said.
“Now, back to the matter of Anne’s prayer request.”
“Yes, Your Archangelness,” Mercy said.
Her friend didn’t play the role of innocent well, Goodness thought. She resisted the urge to elbow Mercy, since she couldn’t do it without being obvious.
“What are your plans?” Gabriel asked, scrutinizing them.
“Funny you should ask,” Goodness said. “We were just discussing that. I don’t think Roy’s going to come right out and ask Julie for a date. He wouldn’t be comfortable with such a direct approach.”
“He enjoys watching the parade of boats,” Gabriel said, flipping through the pages of the book. He looked up again. “Were you aware of that?”
It was all Goodness could do not to sidle over and take a peek.
Gabriel’s attention returned to the page. “The last couple of Decembers, he’s stood on his balcony alone and watched the decorated watercraft float by.”
“And he’s wished there was someone with him to share the experience,” Shirley said. Goodness figured she was just guessing, but she’d probably guessed right.
Gabriel confirmed it. “That wish has been fleeting, but it is one he’s entertained.”
“Julie’s so athletic, I’ll bet she’s a great sailor. She loves the water,” Mercy ventured.
“So does Roy,” Gabriel said. “Or he did at one time. Unfortunately, he hasn’t sailed in years.”
“Aimee used to sail with him, didn’t she?” Goodness asked, although she was fairly sure she knew the answer.
“Roy sold his sailboat after they split up. He hasn’t been out on Puget Sound since.”
“How sad for him.” Shirley sighed as she said it.
“Perhaps we could—”
“Carry on,” Gabriel said. He seemed to be in a hurry now. “You’re doing a fine job so far.”
“We are?” Goodness couldn’t keep herself from saying. “I mean, yes, I know. We’re working very hard on this request.”
“Good.” Then as quickly as he’d come, the Archangel vanished.
Goodness relaxed. Gabriel had yet to recall them from an assignment, but there was always a chance he would, especially with Shirley disobeying the angels’ number one rule: no revelations to humans.
Perhaps they were safe, for now anyway. She certainly hoped so.
Roy slept better on Monday night than he had in months. He always fell asleep easily enough but then he’d wake up two or three hours later. Often he roamed around his condo for much of the night, unable to get back to sleep. During the past few years, he’d tried any number of remedies, all of them useless.
As