Angels Everywhere - Debbie Macomber [40]
“What?”
Mercy should have known she’d need to explain. “Leah and Andrew argued this morning and now he feels terrible. He wants to talk to Leah but he doesn’t know where she is.”
“We’re not to get involved in any human’s life,” Shirley chastised. “By the way, what’s with that ridiculous song?”
“It was popular several years back, one Leah would recognize. I’m trying to tell her to hightail it home.”
Shirley folded her arms over her chest and impatiently tapped her foot. “You’re courting trouble with this one. By heaven, Gabriel’s going to be furious. Secular music, no less. You couldn’t have come up with something more . . . spiritual?”
“ ‘Swing Low Sweet Chariot’ just didn’t hack it. I was desperate. It worked, didn’t it? Look, Leah’s leaving now and two to one she’s headed home.”
“You’re placing bets now too?” Shirley said behind a smile. It wasn’t unheard-of for a prayer ambassador on earth assignment to return home with a few minor bad habits. Some angels were known to have found gambling appealing.
“Are you with the God Squad Police Patrol or something?” Mercy blurted out impatiently. Shirley had the luxury of having everything falling neatly into place with her prayer assignment. The last she’d heard, Timmy’s mother had agreed to date a fine, upstanding young man who’d make Timmy a great father.
She and Goodness should have it so easy. As for herself, Mercy was batting zero when it came to helping Leah, and from what she heard, Goodness wasn’t in much better shape. If anything, matters had gotten progressively worse. In the last report from Goodness, Mercy had learned that Monica Fischer had stretched the truth in an effort to seek out Chet Costello. For a woman who prided herself on rigid honesty this was not an encouraging sign.
“I don’t mean to sound so bossy,” Shirley explained, looking apologetic, “but Gabriel could have your wings for this.”
“My wings! I don’t think so.” It would take a whole lot more than tapping out “Hit the Road, Jack” on a car horn for that to happen.
“I’m only trying to help you.”
“I know, but . . .”
A whoosh of warm wind accompanied Goodness, who arrived breathless and impatient, with her feathers ruffled with indignation. “What is going on with you two?” she demanded.
“Shirley decided to appoint herself as my guardian and—”
“I was watching out for your best interests.”
“Stop! Both of you!” Goodness cried, tossing her arms in the air. “I had to leave Monica and Chet at the worst possible moment for this.”
“Not really, we were—”
Goodness cut her off by stamping her foot. “Shall we all get back to our jobs? Humans are trouble enough without the three of us squabbling.”
“I was only looking to help,” Shirley offered with an injured look.
When Leah pulled into her driveway, she wasn’t sure what to expect. The business with her horn had ceased the moment she started the engine. Since Andrew took care of the maintenance on their vehicles it was something she should tell him. But how could she explain her horn going all weird on her?
The front door to the house opened even before she had a chance to climb out of the car. Andrew’s large frame filled the doorway as he rushed out to meet her.
“Where were you?” he asked, his face tight with concern. “I must have made a dozen phone calls and sounded like a complete idiot looking for my wife.”
“I . . . I drove over to Pam and Doug’s.”
“Pam and Doug,” Andrew repeated and stabbed his fingers into his hair as if to punish himself. “I should have tried them first—it makes perfect sense, the way you love those kids,” he said, steering her toward the house. He closed the door, shutting out the cold.
“You weren’t ready to talk, remember?” Leah said. “You were preoccupied with the sports news and needed time to sort through your feelings. Or so you said.”
Andrew nodded. “I behaved like a fool. I’m sorry, Leah.”
“You? I was the one who owed you an apology.”
“You gave it,” Andrew reminded her, and something she couldn’t read flared in his eyes. “Hell, I don’t know what was wrong with me.”
“You needed your space,” Leah