Angels Everywhere - Debbie Macomber [86]
At last Goodness had something positive to report. Monica had come to her senses. It was no small task dealing with this human either. The preacher’s daughter had been a challenge from the first, but Goodness had made progress. With some effort, she’d arranged the phone call from Donna Watkins, although she was disappointed that Monica had chosen to impress Chet instead of Michael with her new outfit.
“Goodness.” Gabriel greeted her upon her arrival. He was pacing, his massive hands clenched behind his back. “I’d like a progress report on Monica Fischer’s prayer request.”
“I was hoping you’d ask,” Goodness said, eager to tell her side of the strange happenings. “There’s a fine young man in her church by the name of Michael Simpson—”
Gabriel cut her off with a look. “I understand she’s currently involved with Chet Costello. And from what I hear, you’re responsible for the two of them meeting.”
“Was involved,” Goodness said quickly, steering the archangel away from the unfortunate incident of Monica literally falling into Chet’s arms. “That’s all behind her now.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“You needn’t worry about Monica and that shoddy detective any longer,” Goodness concluded, folding her hands and proudly flaunting her wings. “Michael Simpson has a good deal going for him. He’s talented and dedicated. I’m sure that within a matter of days, Monica will—”
“Days?” Gabriel repeated.
“Perhaps it will take a week, but I’m confident Monica will come to her senses soon.”
Gabriel continued his pacing. “From what I can see of matters, Monica Fischer is deeply in love, and it isn’t with Michael Simpson.”
“I’m sure this private detective was nothing more than a passing fancy.”
“You think so, do you?” Gabriel asked calmly. “Look at this and then tell me what you think.” With a wave of his arm, the walls of heaven slowly parted, followed by a rush of warm, humid winds. Mists swirled and Goodness squinted, having trouble locating Monica through the thick fog.
Soon the vista cleared. It took her a moment to recognize the stark interior of the old church. It was the very sanctuary where Goodness had met her friends—where Reverend Fischer tended his flock of faithful believers.
Monica was kneeling at the altar, her face buried in her arms as she openly sobbed. It was her tears and her prayers that had created the humid fog. The sounds of her pain rose pitifully toward heaven as if echoing from a sound chamber.
“She’s changed,” Gabriel said gently. “Her hair is different.”
“Chet, he’s the private detective—”
“I know him well.”
“You do?”
Gabriel nodded. “Is he responsible for the other things as well? I notice she’s wearing an attractive dress and gold earrings.”
“Ah, I believe so.” Now didn’t seem the time to mention Monica’s lunch with Donna Watkins.
Gabriel’s nod was thoughtful. “I suspected as much. As I recall, the last time I saw Monica, she was trapped in the web of her own righteousness. Am I wrong, or is she a little more willing to accept the differences in us all?”
“I couldn’t really say, but I must explain, I did a bit of research on this private detective and I don’t mind telling you, he’s had a sordid past.”
“I see,” Gabriel commented with a decided lack of appreciation. This wasn’t a good sign. “How far back did you investigate him?”
“The last couple of years.”
“Did you learn about his gunshot wound?”
“Ah, I wasn’t aware he’d been wounded.”
“He nearly died. As I understand it, he stepped in front of a bullet to save his friend. He was willing to sacrifice his own life for that of someone he loved. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough, his friend died.”
“Oh, dear.” The picture Gabriel painted of Chet was becoming clearer. Goodness’s gaze slowly returned to Monica, kneeling at the altar railing, pouring her heart out in prayer. It rose like a sweet-smelling mist toward heaven. “What’s she saying?”
Gabriel stood behind Goodness. “She’s thanking God for teaching her about love, for giving her the short time she had with Chet. Her heart is filled with gratitude.”
Goodness